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diff --git a/14133-h/14133-h.htm b/14133-h/14133-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a94be00 --- /dev/null +++ b/14133-h/14133-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11313 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + <title>the title</title> + <style type="text/css"> + + body + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + p + {text-align: justify;} + + blockquote + {text-align: justify;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 + {text-align: center;} + + hr + {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + + html>body hr + {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + + hr.full + {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full + {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + + pre + {font-size: 0.7em; color: #000; background-color: #FFF;} + + .poetry + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 0%; + text-align: left;} + + .footnote + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em;} + + .index + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + text-align: center;} + + .figure + {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img + {border: none;} + + .lfigure + {float:left; width: 25%; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .lfigure img + {border: none;} + + .rfigure + {float:right; width: 25%; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .rfigure img + {border: none;} + + .date + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + text-align: right;} + + span.rightnote + {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 1%; + font-size: 0.7em; border-bottom: solid 1px;} + + span.leftnote + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 92%; + font-size: 0.7em; border-bottom: solid 1px;} + + span.linenum + {float:right; + text-align: right; font-size: 0.7em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14133 ***</div> + +<a name="balfour001"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour001.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: SHE DROPPED ME ONE OF HER CURTSEYS, WHICH +WERE EXTRAORDINARY TAKING" src="images/balfour001sm.jpg" height="762" width="525" /></a><br /> + +SHE DROPPED ME +ONE OF HER CURTSEYS, WHICH WERE EXTRAORDINARY TAKING + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<h4>There are several editions of this ebook in the Project Gutenberg collection. Various characteristics of each ebook are listed to aid in selecting the preferred file.<br />Click on any of the filenumbers below to quickly view each ebook. +</h4> + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/30870/30870-h/30870-h.htm"> +30870</a> </b> </td><td>(A Table of Contents; No illustrations) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/589/589-h/589-h.htm"> +589</a></b></td><td>(No illustrations and No Table of Contents) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/14133/14133-h/14133-h.htm"> +14133</a></b> </td><td>(An illustrated HTML file with a Table of Contents) +</td></tr> + +</table> + + + +<h1>DAVID BALFOUR</h1> +<br /> +<h2>Being Memoirs of his Adventures at home +and Abroad</h2> +<br /> +<h3>THE SECOND PART: <i>In which are set forth his Misfortunes +anent the</i> APPIN <i>Murder; his Troubles with Lord Advocate</i> +GRANT; <i>Captivity on the Bass Rock; Journey into Holland +and France; and Singular Relations with</i> JAMES MORE +DRUMMOND <i>or</i> MACGREGOR, <i>a Son of the notorious</i> ROB +ROY, <i>and his Daughter</i> CATRIONA</h3> +<br /> +<h3>WRITTEN BY HIMSELF</h3> +<h4>AND NOW SET FORTH BY</h4> +<h2>ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON</h2> +<br /> +<h3><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></h3> +<br /> +<br /> +<h4>NEW YORK</h4> +<h4>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h4> +<h4>1905</h4> + +<h4>COPYRIGHT, 1893, BY</h4> +<h4>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h4> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2>DEDICATION</h2> <h3>To</h3> <h3>CHARLES BAXTER, <i>Writer to the +Signet</i>.</h3> + +<p>MY DEAR CHARLES,</p> + +<p>It is the fate of sequels to disappoint those who have waited for them; +and, my David having been left to kick his heels for more than a lustre in +the British Linen Company's office, must expect his late reappearance to be +greeted with hoots, if not with missiles. Yet, when I remember the days of +our explorations, I am not without hope. There should be left in our native +city some seed of the elect; some long-legged, hot-headed youth must repeat +to-day our dreams and wanderings of so many years ago; he will relish the +pleasure, which should have been ours, to follow among named streets and +numbered houses the country walks of David Balfour, to identify Dean, and +Silvermills, and Broughton, and Hope Park and Pilrig, and poor old +Lochend--if it still be standing, and the Figgate Whins--if there be any of +them left; or to push (on a long holiday) so far afield as Gillane or the +Bass. So, perhaps, his eye shall be opened to behold the series of the +generations, and he shall weigh with surprise his momentous and nugatory +gift of life.</p> + +<p>You are still--as when first I saw, as when I last addressed you--in the +venerable city which I must always think of as my home. And I have come so +far; and the sights and thoughts of my youth pursue me; and I see like a +vision the youth of my father, and of his father, and the whole stream of +lives flowing down there, far in the north, with the sound of laughter and +tears, to cast me out in the end, as by a sudden freshet, on those ultimate +islands. And I admire and bow my head before the romance of destiny.</p> + +<blockquote> +R.L.S.<br /> +<br /> +VAILIMA,<br /> + UPOLU,<br /> + SAMOA,<br /> + + 1902.<br /> +</blockquote> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CONTENTS'></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<blockquote> +<a href='#Part_I'>Part I</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>THE LORD ADVOCATE</i><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_I'>I. A BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_II'>II. THE HIGHLAND WRITER</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_III'>III. I GO TO PILRIG</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_IV'>IV. LORD ADVOCATE PRESTONGRANGE</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_V'>V. IN THE ADVOCATE'S HOUSE</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_VI'>VI. UMQHILE THE MASTER OF LOVAT</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_VII'>VII. I MAKE A FAULT IN HONOUR</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'>VIII. THE BRAVO</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_IX'>IX. THE HEATHER ON FIRE</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_X'>X. THE RED-HEADED MAN</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XI'>XI. THE WOOD BY SILVERMILLS</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XII'>XII. ON THE MARCH AGAIN WITH ALAN</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'>XIII. GILLANE SANDS</a><br +/> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'>XIV. THE BASS</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XV'>XV. BLACK ANDIE'S TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XVI'>XVI. THE MISSING WITNESS</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XVII'>XVII. THE MEMORIAL</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII'>XVIII. THE TEE'D BALL</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XIX'>XIX. I AM MUCH IN THE HANDS OF THE LADIES</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XX'>XX. I CONTINUE TO MOVE IN GOOD SOCIETY</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#Part_II'>Part II</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>FATHER AND DAUGHTER</i><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXI'>XXI. THE VOYAGE INTO HOLLAND</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXII'>XXII. HELVOETSLUYS</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII'>XXIII. TRAVELS IN HOLLAND</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV'>XXIV. FULL STORY OF A COPY OF HEINECCIUS</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXV'>XXV. THE RETURN OF JAMES MORE</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXVI'>XXVI. THE THREESOME</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXVII'>XXVII. A TWOSOME</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXVIII'>XXVIII. IN WHICH I AM LEFT ALONE</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXIX'>XXIX. WE MEET IN DUNKIRK</a><br /> +<a href='#CHAPTER_XXX'>XXX. THE LETTER FROM THE SHIP</a><br /> +<a href='#CONCLUSION'>XXXI. CONCLUSION</a><br /> +</blockquote> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<blockquote> +<a href='#balfour001'>"SHE DROPPED ME ONE OF HER CURTSEYS, WHICH WERE +EXTRAORDINARY TAKING"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour002'>"'WHAT DID THEY SUFFER FOR?' I ASKED?"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour003'>"'TIT YOU EFFER HEAR WHERE ALAN GRIGOR FAND THE +TANGS,' SAID HE"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour004'>"'THE GOODMAN BROUGHT ME MY MEAT AND A DROP +BRANDY, AND A CANDLE-DOWP TO EAT IT BY, ABOUT +ELEEVEN,' SAID HE"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour005'>"'THERE HE SAT, A MUCKLE FAT, WHITE HASH OF A MAN +LIKE CREISH'"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour006'>"'THERE IS NOTHING HERE TO BE VIEWED BUT NAKED +CAMPBELL SPITE AND SCURVY CAMPBELL INTRIGUE'"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour007'>"UP SHE STOOD ON THE BULWARKS AND HELD BY A +STAY"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour008'>"'YOU TELL ME SHE IS HERE?' SAID HE AGAIN"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#balfour009'>"'KEEP BACK, DAVIE! ARE YE DAFT?'"</a><br /> +</blockquote> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a>[pg 1]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='Part_I'></a>Part I</h2> + +<h2>THE LORD ADVOCATE</h2> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_I'></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>A BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK</h3> + + +<p>The 25th day of August, 1751, about two in the afternoon, I, David +Balfour, came forth of the British Linen Company, a porter attending me +with a bag of money, and some of the chief of these merchants bowing me +from their doors. Two days before, and even so late as yestermorning, I was +like a beggarman by the wayside, clad in rags, brought down to my last +shillings, my companion a condemned traitor, a price set on my own head for +a crime with the news of which the country rang. To-day I was served heir +to my position in life, a landed laird, a bank porter by me carrying my +gold, recommendations in my pocket, and (in the words of the saying) the +ball directly at my foot.</p> + +<p>There were two circumstances that served me as ballast to so much sail. +The first was the very difficult <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" +id="Page_2"></a>[pg 2]</span>and deadly business I had still to handle; the +second, the place that I was in. The tall, black city, and the numbers and +movement and noise of so many folk, made a new world for me, after the +moorland braes, the sea-sands, and the still country-sides that I had +frequented up to then. The throng of the citizens in particular abashed me. +Rankeillor's son was short and small in the girth; his clothes scarce held +on me; and it was plain I was ill qualified to strut in the front of a +bank-porter. It was plain, if I did so, I should but set folk laughing, and +(what was worse in my case) set them asking questions. So that I behooved +to come by some clothes of my own, and in the meanwhile to walk by the +porter's side, and put my hand on his arm as though we were a pair of +friends.</p> + +<p>At a merchant's in the Luckenbooths, I had myself fitted out: none too +fine, for I had no idea to appear like a beggar on horseback; but comely +and responsible, so that servants should respect me. Thence to an +armourer's, where I got a plain sword, to suit with my degree in life. I +felt safer with the weapon, though (for one so ignorant of defence) it +might be called an added danger. The porter, who was naturally a man of +some experience, judged my accoutrement to be well chosen.</p> + +<p>"Naething kenspeckle,"<sup><a href="#fn1" name="rfn1">[1]</a></sup> said +he, "plain, dacent claes. As for the rapier, nae doubt it sits wi' your +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a>[pg 3]</span>degree; +but an I had been you, I would hae waired my siller better-gates than +that." And proposed I should buy winter-hosen from a wife in the +Cowgate-back, that was a cousin of his own, and made them "extraordinar +endurable."</p> + +<p>But I had other matters on my hand more pressing. Here I was in this +old, black city, which was for all the world like a rabbit-warren, not only +by the number of its indwellers, but the complication of its passages and +holes. It was indeed a place where no stranger had a chance to find a +friend, let be another stranger. Suppose him even to hit on the right +close, people dwelt so thronged in these tall houses, he might very well +seek a day before he chanced on the right door. The ordinary course was to +hire a lad they called a <i>caddie</i>, who was like a guide or pilot, led +you where you had occasion, and (your errands being done) brought you again +where you were lodging. But these caddies, being always employed in the +same sort of services, and having it for obligation to be well informed of +every house and person in the city, had grown to form a brotherhood of +spies; and I knew from tales of Mr. Campbell's how they communicated one +with another, what a rage of curiosity they conceived as to their +employer's business, and how they were like eyes and fingers to the police. +It would be a piece of little wisdom, the way I was now placed, to tack +such a ferret to my tails. I had three visits to make, all immediately +needful: to my kinsman Mr. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" +id="Page_4"></a>[pg 4]</span>Balfour of Pilrig, to Stewart the Writer that +was Appin's agent, and to William Grant Esquire of Prestongrange, Lord +Advocate of Scotland. Mr. Balfour's was a non-committal visit; and besides +(Pilrig being in the country) I made bold to find way to it myself, with +the help of my two legs and a Scots tongue. But the rest were in a +different case. Not only was the visit to Appin's agent, in the midst of +the cry about the Appin murder, dangerous in itself, but it was highly +inconsistent with the other. I was like to have a bad enough time of it +with my Lord Advocate Grant, the best of ways; but to go to him hot-foot +from Appin's agent, was little likely to mend my own affairs, and might +prove the mere ruin of friend Alan's. The whole thing, besides, gave me a +look of running with the hare and hunting with the hounds that was little +to my fancy. I determined, therefore, to be done at once with Mr. Stewart +and the whole Jacobitical side of my business, and to profit for that +purpose by the guidance of the porter at my side. But it chanced I had +scarce given him the address, when there came a sprinkle of rain--nothing +to hurt, only for my new clothes--and we took shelter under a pend at the +head of a close or alley.</p> + +<p>Being strange to what I saw, I stepped a little farther in. The narrow +paved way descended swiftly. Prodigious tall houses sprang upon each side +and bulged out, one story beyond another, as they rose. At the top <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a>[pg 5]</span>only a ribbon +of sky showed in. By what I could spy in the windows, and by the +respectable persons that passed out and in, I saw the houses to be very +well occupied; and the whole appearance of the place interested me like a +tale.</p> + +<p>I was still gazing, when there came a sudden brisk tramp of feet in time +and clash of steel behind me. Turning quickly, I was aware of a party of +armed soldiers, and, in their midst, a tall man in a great-coat. He walked +with a stoop that was like a piece of courtesy, genteel and insinuating: he +waved his hands plausibly as he went, and his face was sly and handsome. I +thought his eye took me in, but could not meet it. This procession went by +to a door in the close, which a serving-man in a fine livery set open; and +two of the soldier-lads carried the prisoner within, the rest lingering +with their firelocks by the door.</p> + +<p>There can nothing pass in the streets of a city without some following +of idle folk and children. It was so now; but the more part melted away +incontinent until but three were left. One was a girl; she was dressed like +a lady, and had a screen of the Drummond colours on her head; but her +comrades or (I should say) followers were ragged gillies, such as I had +seen the matches of by the dozen in my Highland journey. They all spoke +together earnestly in Gaelic, the sound of which was pleasant in my ears +for the sake of Alan; and though the rain was by again, and my porter <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a>[pg 6]</span>plucked at me +to be going, I even drew nearer where they were, to listen. The lady +scolded sharply, the others making apologies and cringeing before her, so +that I made sure she was come of a chief's house. All the while the three +of them sought in their pockets, and by what I could make out, they had the +matter of half a farthing among the party; which made me smile a little to +see all Highland folk alike for fine obeisances and empty sporrans.</p> + +<p>It chanced the girl turned suddenly about, so that I saw her face for +the first time. There is no greater wonder than the way the face of a young +woman fits in a man's mind, and stays there, and he could never tell you +why; it just seems it was the thing he wanted. She had wonderful bright +eyes like stars, and I daresay the eyes had a part in it; but what I +remember the most clearly was the way her lips were a trifle open as she +turned. And whatever was the cause, I stood there staring like a fool. On +her side, as she had not known there was anyone so near, she looked at me a +little longer, and perhaps with more surprise, than was entirely civil.</p> + +<p>It went through my country head she might be wondering at my new +clothes; with that, I blushed to my hair, and at the sight of my colouring +it's to be supposed she drew her own conclusions, for she moved her gillies +farther down the close, and they fell again to this dispute where I could +hear no more of it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>[pg 7]</span>I +had often admired a lassie before then, if scarce so sudden and strong; and +it was rather my disposition to withdraw than to come forward, for I was +much in fear of mockery from the womenkind. You would have thought I had +now all the more reason to pursue my common practice, since I had met this +young lady in the city street, seemingly following a prisoner, and +accompanied with two very ragged, indecent-like Highlandmen. But there was +here a different ingredient; it was plain the girl thought I had been +prying in her secrets; and with my new clothes and sword, and at the top of +my new fortunes, this was more than I could swallow. The beggar on +horseback could not bear to be thrust down so low, or at the least of it, +not by this young lady.</p> + +<p>I followed, accordingly, and took off my new hat to her, the best that I +was able.</p> + +<p>"Madam," said I, "I think it only fair to myself to let you understand I +have no Gaelic. It is true I was listening, for I have friends of my own +across the Highland line, and the sound of that tongue comes friendly; but +for your private affairs, if you had spoken Greek, I might have had more +guess at them."</p> + +<p>She made me a little, distant curtsey. "There is no harm done," said +she, with a pretty accent, most like the English (but more agreeable). "A +cat may look at a king."</p> + +<p>"I do not mean to offend," said I. "I have no skill <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>[pg 8]</span>of city +manners; I never before this day set foot inside the doors of Edinburgh. +Take me for a country lad--it's what I am; and I would rather I told you +than you found it out."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, it will be a very unusual thing for strangers to be speaking to +each other on the causeway," she replied. "But if you are landward<sup><a +href="#fn2" name="rfn2">[2]</a></sup> bred it will be different. I am as +landward as yourself; I am Highland as you see, and think myself the +farther from my home."</p> + +<p>"It is not yet a week since I passed the line," said I. "Less than a +week ago I was on the Braes of Balwhidder."</p> + +<p>"Balwhither?" she cries; "come ye from Balwhither? The name of it makes +all there is of me rejoice. You will not have been long there, and not +known some of our friends or family?"</p> + +<p>"I lived with a very honest, kind man called Duncan Dhu Maclaren," I +replied.</p> + +<p>"Well I know Duncan, and you give him the true name!" she said; "and if +he is an honest man, his wife is honest indeed."</p> + +<p>"Ay," said I, "they are fine people, and the place is a bonny +place."</p> + +<p>"Where in the great world is such another?" she cries; "I am loving the +smell of that place and the roots that grew there."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>[pg 9]</span>I +was infinitely taken with the spirit of the maid. "I could be wishing I had +brought you a spray of that heather," says I. "And though I did ill to +speak with you at the first, now it seems we have common acquaintance, I +make it my petition you will not forget me. David Balfour is the name I am +known by. This is my lucky day when I have just come into a landed estate +and am not very long out of a deadly peril. I wish you would keep my name +in mind for the sake of Balquidder," said I, "and I will yours for the sake +of my lucky day."</p> + +<p>"My name is not spoken," she replied, with a great deal of haughtiness. +"More than a hundred years it has not gone upon men's tongues, save for a +blink. I am nameless like the Folk of Peace.<sup><a href="#fn3" +name="rfn3">[3]</a></sup> Catriona Drummond is the one I use."</p> + +<p>Now indeed I knew where I was standing. In all broad Scotland there was +but the one name proscribed, and that was the name of the Macgregors. Yet +so far from fleeing this undesirable acquaintancy, I plunged the deeper +in.</p> + +<p>"I have been sitting with one who was in the same case with yourself," +said I, "and I think he will be one of your friends. They called him Robin +Oig."</p> + +<p>"Did ye so?" cries she. "Ye met Rob?"</p> + +<p>"I passed the night with him," said I.</p> + +<p>"He is a fowl of the night," said she.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>[pg +10]</span>"There was a set of pipes there," I went on, "so you may judge if +the time passed."</p> + +<p>"You should be no enemy, at all events," said she. "That was his brother +there a moment since, with the red soldiers round him. It is him that I +call father."</p> + +<p>"Is it so?" cried I. "Are you a daughter of James More's?"</p> + +<p>"All the daughter that he has," says she: "the daughter of a prisoner; +that I should forget it so, even for one hour, to talk with strangers!"</p> + +<p>Here one of the gillies addressed her in what he had of English, to know +what "she" (meaning by that himself) was to do about "ta sneeshin." I took +some note of him for a short, bandy-legged, red-haired, big-headed man, +that I was to know more of to my cost.</p> + +<p>"There can be none the day, Neil," she replied. "How will you get +'sneeshin,' wanting siller? It will teach you another time to be more +careful; and I think James More will not be very well pleased with Neil of +the Tom."</p> + +<p>"Miss Drummond," I said, "I told you I was in my lucky day. Here I am, +and a bank-porter at my tail. And remember I have had the hospitality of +your own country of Balwhidder."</p> + +<p>"It was not one of my people gave it," said she.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," said I, "but I am owing your uncle at least for some springs +upon the pipes. Besides which, I have offered myself to be your friend, and +you have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>[pg +11]</span>been so forgetful that you did not refuse me in the proper +time."</p> + +<p>"If it had been a great sum, it might have done you honour," said she. +"But I will tell you what this is. James More lies shackled in prison; but +this time past, they will be bringing him down here daily to the +Advocate's..."</p> + +<p>"The Advocate's?" I cried. "Is that . . . ?"</p> + +<p>"It is the house of the Lord Advocate, Grant of Prestongrange," said +she. "There they bring my father one time and another, for what purpose I +have no thought in my mind; but it seems there is some hope dawned for him. +All this same time they will not let me be seeing him, nor yet him write; +and we wait upon the King's street to catch him; and now we give him his +snuff as he goes by, and now something else. And here is this son of +trouble, Neil, son of Duncan, has lost my fourpenny-piece that was to buy +that snuff, and James More must go wanting, and will think his daughter has +forgotten him."</p> + +<p>I took sixpence from my pocket, gave it to Neil, and bade him go about +his errand. Then to her, "That sixpence came with me by Balwhidder," said +I.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she said, "you are a friend to the Gregara!"</p> + +<p>"I would not like to deceive you either," said I. "I know very little of +the Gregara and less of James More and his doings; but since the while I +have been standing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" +id="Page_12"></a>[pg 12]</span>in this close, I seem to know something of +yourself; and if you will just say 'a friend to Miss Catriona' I will see +you are the less cheated."</p> + +<p>"The one cannot be without the other," said she.</p> + +<p>"I will even try," said I.</p> + +<p>"And what will you be thinking of myself?" she cried, "to be holding my +hand to the first stranger!"</p> + +<p>"I am thinking nothing but that you are a good daughter," said I.</p> + +<p>"I must not be without repaying it," she said; "where is it you +stop?"</p> + +<p>"To tell the truth, I am stopping nowhere yet," said I, "being not full +three hours in the city; but if you will give me your direction, I will be +so bold as come seeking my sixpence for myself."</p> + +<p>"Will I can trust you for that?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"You have little fear," said I.</p> + +<p>"James More could not bear it else," said she. "I stop beyond the +village of Dean, on the north side of the water, with Mrs. Drummond-Ogilvy +of Allardyce, who is my near friend and will be glad to thank you."</p> + +<p>"You are to see me then, so soon as what I have to do permits," said I; +and the remembrance of Alan rolling in again upon my mind, I made haste to +say farewell.</p> + +<p>I could not but think, even as I did so, that we had made extraordinary +free upon short acquaintance, and that a really wise young lady would have +shown herself <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>[pg +13]</span>more backward. I think it was the bank-porter that put me from +this ungallant train of thought.</p> + +<p>"I thoucht ye had been a lad of some kind o' sense," he began, shooting +out his lips. "Ye're no likely to gang far this gate. A fule and his +siller's shune parted. Eh, but ye're a green callant!" he cried, "an' a +veecious, tae! Cleikin' up wi' baubee-joes!"</p> + +<p>"If you dare to speak of the young lady ..." I began.</p> + +<p>"Leddy!" he cried. "Haud us and safe us, whatten leddy? Ca' <i>thon</i> +a leddy? The toun's fu' o' them. Leddies! Man, it's weel seen ye're no very +acquant in Embro'!"</p> + +<p>A clap of anger took me.</p> + +<p>"Here," said I, "lead me where I told you, and keep your foul mouth +shut!"</p> + +<p>He did not wholly obey me, for though he no more addressed me directly, +he sang at me as he went in a very impudent manner of innuendo, and with an +exceedingly ill voice and ear--</p> + +<blockquote> +"As Mally Lee cam doun the street, her capuchin did flee.<br /> +She cuist a look ahint her to see her negligee,<br /> +And we're a' gaun east and wast, we're a' gaun ajee,<br /> +We're a' gaun east and wast courtin' Mally Lee."<br /> +</blockquote> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>[pg 14]</span><hr +/> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_II'></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE HIGHLAND WRITER</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Charles Stewart the Writer dwelt at the top of the longest stair +that ever mason set a hand to; fifteen flights of it, no less; and when I +had come to his door, and a clerk had opened it, and told me his master was +within, I had scarce breath enough to send my porter packing.</p> + +<p>"Awa' east and wast wi' ye!" said I, took the money bag out of his +hands, and followed the clerk in.</p> + +<p>The outer room was an office with the clerk's chair at a table spread +with law papers. In the inner chamber, which opened from it, a little brisk +man sat poring on a deed, from which he scarce raised his eyes upon my +entrance; indeed, he still kept his finger in the place, as though prepared +to show me out and fall again to his studies. This pleased me little +enough; and what pleased me less, I thought the clerk was in a good posture +to overhear what should pass between us.</p> + +<p>I asked if he was Mr. Charles Stewart the Writer.</p> + +<p>"The same," says he; "and if the question is equally fair, who may you +be yourself?"</p> + +<p>"You never heard tell of my name nor of me <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>[pg 15]</span>either," said I, "but I bring +you a token from a friend that you know well. That you know well," I +repeated, lowering my voice, "but maybe are not just so keen to hear from +at this present being. And the bits of business that I have to propone to +you are rather in the nature of being confidential. In short, I would like +to think we were quite private."</p> + +<p>He rose without more words, casting down his paper like a man +ill-pleased, sent forth his clerk of an errand, and shut to the house-door +behind him.</p> + +<p>"Now, sir," said he, returning, "speak out your mind and fear nothing; +though before you begin," he cries out, "I tell you mine misgives me! I +tell you beforehand, ye're either a Stewart or a Stewart sent ye. A good +name it is, and one it would ill-become my father's son to lightly. But I +begin to grue at the sound of it."</p> + +<p>"My name is called Balfour," said I, "David Balfour of Shaws. As for him +that sent me, I will let his token speak." And I showed the silver +button.</p> + +<p>"Put it in your pocket, sir!" cries he, "Ye need name no names. The +deevil's buckie, I ken the button of him! And de'il hae't! Where is he +now?"</p> + +<p>I told him I knew not where Alan was, but he had some sure place (or +thought he had) about the north side, where he was to lie until a ship was +found for him; and how and where he had appointed to be spoken with.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>[pg +16]</span>"It's been always my opinion that I would hang in a tow for this +family of mine," he cried, "and, dod! I believe the day's come now! Get a +ship for him, quot' he! And who's to pay for it? The man's daft!"</p> + +<p>"That is my part of the affair, Mr. Stewart," said I. "Here is a bag of +good money, and if more be wanted, more is to be had where it came +from."</p> + +<p>"I needn't ask your politics," said he.</p> + +<p>"Ye need not," said I, smiling, "for I'm as big a Whig as grows."</p> + +<p>"Stop a bit, stop a bit," says Mr. Stewart. "What's all this? A Whig? +Then why are you here with Alan's button? and what kind of a black-foot +traffic is this that I find ye out in, Mr. Whig? Here is a forfeited rebel +and an accused murderer, with two hundred pounds on his life, and ye ask me +to meddle in his business, and then tell me ye're a Whig! I have no mind of +any such Whigs before, though I've kent plenty of them."</p> + +<p>"He's a forfeited rebel, the more's the pity," said I, "for the man's my +friend." I can only wish he had been better guided. And an accused +murderer, that he is too, for his misfortune; but wrongfully accused."</p> + +<p>"I hear you say so," said Stewart.</p> + +<p>"More than you are to hear me say so, before long," said I. "Alan Breck +is innocent, and so is James."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" says he, "the two cases hang together. If Alan is out, James can +never be in."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>[pg +17]</span>Hereupon I told him briefly of my acquaintance with Alan, of the +accident that brought me present at the Appin murder, and the various +passages of our escape among the heather, and my recovery of my estate. +"So, sir, you have now the whole train of these events," I went on, "and +can see for yourself how I come to be so much mingled up with the affairs +of your family and friends, which (for all of our sakes) I wish had been +plainer and less bloody. You can see for yourself, too, that I have certain +pieces of business depending, which were scarcely fit to lay before a +lawyer chosen at random. No more remains, but to ask if you will undertake +my service?"</p> + +<p>"I have no great mind to it; but coming as you do with Alan's button, +the choice is scarcely left me," said he. "What are your instructions?" he +added, and took up his pen.</p> + +<p>"The first point is to smuggle Alan forth of this country," said I, "but +I need not be repeating that."</p> + +<p>"I am little likely to forget it," said Stewart.</p> + +<p>"The next thing is the bit money I am owing to Cluny," I went on. "It +would be ill for me to find a conveyance, but that should be no stick to +you. It was two pounds five shillings and three-halfpence farthing +sterling."</p> + +<p>He noted it.</p> + +<p>"Then," said I, "there's a Mr. Henderland, a licensed preacher and +missionary in Ardgour, that I would like <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>[pg 18]</span>well to get some snuff into +the hands of; and as I daresay you keep touch with your friends in Appin +(so near by), it's a job you could doubtless overtake with the other."</p> + +<p>"How much snuff are we to say?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of two pounds," said I.</p> + +<p>"Two," said he.</p> + +<p>"Then there's the lass Alison Hastie, in Limekilns," said I. "Her that +helped Alan and me across the Forth. I was thinking if I could get her a +good Sunday gown, such as she could wear with decency in her degree, it +would be an ease to my conscience: for the mere truth is, we owe her our +two lives."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to see you are thrifty, Mr. Balfour," says he, making his +notes.</p> + +<p>"I would think shame to be otherwise the first day of my fortune," said +I. "And now, if you will compute the outlay and your own proper charges, I +would be glad to know if I could get some spending-money back. It's not +that I grudge the whole of it to get Alan safe; it's not that I lack more; +but having drawn so much the one day, I think it would have a very ill +appearance if I was back again seeking, the next. Only be sure you have +enough," I added, "for I am very undesirous to meet with you again."</p> + +<p>"Well, and I'm pleased to see you're cautious too," said the Writer. +"But I think ye take a risk to lay so considerable a sum at my +discretion."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>[pg +19]</span>He said this with a plain sneer.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to run the hazard," I replied. "O, and there's another +service I would ask, and that's to direct me to a lodging, for I have no +roof to my head. But it must be a lodging I may seem to have hit upon by +accident, for it would never do if the Lord Advocate were to get any +jealousy of our acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"Ye may set your weary spirit at rest," said he. "I will never name your +name, sir; and it's my belief the Advocate is still so much to be +sympathised with that he doesnae ken of your existence."</p> + +<p>I saw I had got to the wrong side of the man.</p> + +<p>"There's a braw day coming for him, then," said I, "for he'll have to +learn of it on the deaf side of his head no later than to-morrow, when I +call on him."</p> + +<p>"When ye <i>call</i> on him!" repeated Mr. Stewart. "Am I daft, or are +you? What takes ye near the Advocate?"</p> + +<p>"O, just to give myself up," said I.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Balfour," he cried, "are ye making a mock of me?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," said I, "though I think you have allowed yourself some such +freedom with myself. But I give you to understand once and for all that I +am in no jesting spirit."</p> + +<p>"Nor yet me," says Stewart. "And I give you to understand (if that's to +be the word) that I like the looks of your behaviour less and less. You +come here to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>[pg +20]</span>me with all sorts of propositions, which will put me in a train +of very doubtful acts and bring me among very undesirable persons this many +a day to come. And then you tell me you're going straight out of my office +to make your peace with the Advocate! Alan's button here or Alan's button +there, the four quarters of Alan wouldnae bribe me further in."</p> + +<p>"I would take it with a little more temper," said I, "and perhaps we can +avoid what you object to. I can see no way for it but to give myself up, +but perhaps you can see another; and if you could, I could never deny but +what I would be rather relieved. For I think my traffic with his lordship +is little likely to agree with my health. There's just the one thing clear, +that I have to give my evidence; for I hope it'll save Alan's character +(what's left of it), and James's neck, which is the more immediate."</p> + +<p>He was silent for a breathing-space, and then, "My man," said he, +"you'll never be allowed to give such evidence."</p> + +<p>"We'll have to see about that," said I; "I'm stiff-necked when I +like."</p> + +<p>"Ye muckle ass!" cried Stewart, "it's James they want; James has got to +hang--Alan too, if they could catch him--but James whatever! Go near the +Advocate with any such business, and you'll see! he'll find a way to muzzle +ye."</p> + +<p>"I think better of the Advocate than that," said I.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>[pg +21]</span>"The Advocate be damned!" cries he. "It's the Campbells, man! +You'll have the whole clanjamfry of them on your back; and so will the +Advocate too, poor body! It's extraordinar ye cannot see where ye stand! If +there's no fair way to stop your gab, there's a foul one gaping. They can +put ye in the dock, do ye no see that?" he cried, and stabbed me with one +finger in the leg.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said I, "I was told that same no further back than this morning by +another lawyer."</p> + +<p>"And who was he?" asked Stewart. "He spoke sense at least."</p> + +<p>I told I must be excused from naming him, for he was a decent stout old +Whig, and had little mind to be mixed up in such affairs.</p> + +<p>"I think all the world seems to be mixed up in it!" cries Stewart. "But +what said you?"</p> + +<p>I told him what had passed between Rankeillor and myself before the +house of Shaws.</p> + +<p>"Well, and so ye will hang!" said he. "Ye'll hang beside James Stewart. +There's your fortune told."</p> + +<p>"I hope better of it yet than that," said I; "but I could never deny +there was a risk."</p> + +<p>"Risk!" says he, and then sat silent again. "I ought to thank you for +your staunchness to my friends, to whom you show a very good spirit," he +says, "if you have the strength to stand by it. But I warn you that you're +wading deep. I wouldn't put myself in your <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>[pg 22]</span>place (me that's a Stewart +born!) for all the Stewarts that ever there were since Noah. Risk? ay, I +take over-many, but to be tried in court before a Campbell jury and a +Campbell judge, and that in a Campbell country and upon a Campbell +quarrel--think what you like of me, Balfour, it's beyond me."</p> + +<p>"It's a different way of thinking, I suppose," said I; "I was brought up +to this one by my father before me."</p> + +<p>"Glory to his bones! he has left a decent son to his name," says he. +"Yet I would not have you judge me over-sorely. My case is dooms hard. See, +sir! ye tell me ye're a Whig: I wonder what I am. No Whig to be sure; I +couldnae be just that. But--laigh in your ear, man--I'm maybe no very keen +on the other side."</p> + +<p>"Is that a fact?" cried I. "It's what I would think of a man of your +intelligence."</p> + +<p>"Hut! none of your whillywhas!"<sup><a href="#fn4" +name="rfn4">[4]</a></sup> cries he. "There's intelligence upon both sides. +But for my private part I have no particular desire to harm King George; +and as for King James, God bless him! he does very well for me across the +water. I'm a lawyer, ye see: fond of my books and my bottle, a good plea, a +well-drawn deed, a crack in the Parliament House with other lawyer bodies, +and perhaps a turn at the golf on a Saturday at e'en. Where do ye come in +with your Hieland plaids and claymores?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>[pg +23]</span>"Well," said I, "it's a fact ye have little of the wild +Highlandman."</p> + +<p>"Little?" quoth he. "Nothing, man! And yet I'm Hieland born, and when +the clan pipes, who but me has to dance? The clan and the name, that goes +by all. It's just what you said yourself; my father learned it to me, and a +bonny trade I have of it. Treason and traitors, and the smuggling of them +out and in; and the French recruiting, weary fall it! and the smuggling +through of the recruits; and their pleas--a sorrow of their pleas! Here +haye I been moving one for young Ardshiel, my cousin; claimed the estate +under the marriage contract--a forfeited estate! I told them it was +nonsense: muckle they cared! And there was I cocking behind a yadvocate +that liked the business as little as myself, for it was fair ruin to the +pair of us--a black mark, <i>disaffected</i>, branded on our hurdies, like +folk's names upon their kye! And what can I do? I'm a Stewart, ye see, and +must fend for my clan and family. Then no later by than yesterday there was +one of our Stewart lads carried to the Castle. What for? I ken fine: Act of +1736: recruiting for King Lewie. And you'll see, he'll whistle me in to be +his lawyer, and there'll be another black mark on my chara'ter! I tell you +fair: if I but kent the heid of a Hebrew word from the hurdies of it be +dammed but I would fling the whole thing up and turn minister!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>[pg +24]</span>"It's rather a hard position," said I.</p> + +<p>"Dooms hard!" cries he. "And that's what makes me think so much of +ye--you that's no Stewart--to stick your head so deep in Stewart business. +And for what, I do not know; unless it was the sense of duty."</p> + +<p>"I hope it will be that," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well," says he, "it's a grand quality. But here is my clerk back; and, +by your leave, we'll pick a bit of dinner, all the three of us. When that's +done, I'll give you the direction of a very decent man, that'll be very +fain to have you for a lodger. And I'll fill your pockets to ye, forbye, +out of your ain bag. For this business'll not be near as dear as ye +suppose--not even the ship part of it."</p> + +<p>I made him a sign that his clerk was within hearing.</p> + +<p>"Hoot, ye neednae mind for Robbie," cries he. "A Stewart too, puir +deevil! and has smuggled out more French recruits and trafficking Papists +than what he has hairs upon his face. Why, it's Robin that manages that +branch of my affairs. Who will we have now, Rob, for across the water?"</p> + +<p>"There'll be Andie Scougal, in the <i>Thristle</i>," replied Rob. "I saw +Hoseason the other day, but it seems he's wanting the ship. Then there'll +be Tarn Stobo; but I'm none so sure of Tam. I've seen him colloguing with +some gey queer acquaintances; and if <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>[pg 25]</span>it was anybody important, I +would give Tam the go-by."</p> + +<p>"The head's worth two hundred pounds, Robin," said Stewart.</p> + +<p>"Gosh, that'll no be Alan Breck?" cried the clerk.</p> + +<p>"Just Alan," said his master.</p> + +<p>"Weary winds! that's sayrious," cried Robin. "I'll try Andie then; +Andie'll be the best."</p> + +<p>"It seems it's quite a big business," I observed.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Balfour, there's no end to it," said Stewart.</p> + +<p>"There was a name your clerk mentioned," I went on: "Hoseason. That must +be my man, I think: Hoseason, of the brig <i>Covenant</i>. Would you set +your trust on him?"</p> + +<p>"He didnae behave very well to you and Alan," said Mr. Stewart; "but my +mind of the man in general is rather otherwise. If he had taken Alan on +board his ship on an agreement, it's my notion he would have proved a just +dealer. How say ye, Rob?"</p> + +<p>"No more honest skipper in the trade than Eli," said the clerk. "I would +lippen to<sup><a href="#fn5" name="rfn5">[5]</a></sup> Eli's word--ay, if +it was the Chevalier, or Appin himsel'," he added.</p> + +<p>"And it was him that brought the doctor, wasnae't?" asked the +master.</p> + +<p>"He was the very man," said the clerk.</p> + +<p>"And I think he took the doctor back?" says Stewart.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a>[pg +26]</span>"Ay, with his sporran full!" cried Robin. "And Eli kent of +that!"<sup><a href="#fn6" name="rfn6">[6]</a></sup></p> + +<p>"Well, it seems it's hard to ken folk rightly," said I.</p> + +<p>"That was just what I forgot when ye came in, Mr. Balfour!" says the +Writer.</p> + + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>[pg 27]</span><hr +/> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_III'></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>I GO TO PILRIG</h3> + + +<p>The next morning, I was no sooner awake in my new lodging than I was up +and into my new clothes; and no sooner the breakfast swallowed, than I was +forth on my adventures. Alan, I could hope, was fended for; James was like +to be a more difficult affair, and I could not but think that enterprise +might cost me dear, even as everybody said to whom I had opened my opinion. +It seemed I was come to the top of the mountain only to cast myself down; +that I had clambered up, through so many and hard trials, to be rich, to be +recognised, to wear city clothes and a sword to my side, all to commit mere +suicide at the last end of it, and the worst kind of suicide besides, which +is to get hanged at the King's charges.</p> + +<p>What was I doing it for? I asked, as I went down the High Street and out +north by Leith Wynd. First I said it was to save James Stewart, and no +doubt the memory of his distress, and his wife's cries, and a word or so I +had let drop on that occasion worked upon me strongly. At the same time I +reflected that it was (or ought to be) the most indifferent matter to my +father's <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>[pg +28]</span>son, whether James died in his bed or from a scaffold. He was +Alan's cousin, to be sure; but so far as regarded Alan, the best thing +would be to lie low, and let the King, and his Grace of Argyll, and the +corbie crows, pick the bones of his kinsman their own way. Nor could I +forget that, while we were all in the pot together, James had shown no such +particular anxiety whether for Alan or me.</p> + +<p>Next it came upon me I was acting for the sake of justice: and I thought +that a fine word, and reasoned it out that (since we dwelt in polities, at +some discomfort to each one of us) the main thing of all must still be +justice, and the death of any innocent man a wound upon the whole +community. Next, again, it was the Accuser of the Brethren that gave me a +turn of his argument; bid me think shame for pretending myself concerned in +these high matters, and told me I was but a prating vain child, who had +spoken big words to Rankeillor and to Stewart, and held myself bound upon +my vanity to make good that boastfulness. Nay, and he hit me with the other +end of the stick; for he accused me of a kind of artful cowardice, going +about at the expense of a little risk to purchase greater safety. No doubt, +until I had declared and cleared myself, I might any day encounter Mungo +Campbell or the sheriff's officer, and be recognised, and dragged into the +Appin murder by the heels; and, no doubt, in case I could manage my +declaration with success, I should breathe more free for <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>[pg 29]</span>ever +after. But when I looked this argument full in the face I could see nothing +to be ashamed of. As for the rest, "Here are the two roads," I thought, +"and both go to the same place. It's unjust that James should hang if I can +save him; and it would be ridiculous in me to have talked so much and then +do nothing. It's lucky for James of the Glens that I have boasted +beforehand; and none so unlucky for myself, because now I'm committed to do +right. I have the name of a gentleman and the means of one; it would be a +poor discovery that I was wanting in the essence." And then I thought this +was a Pagan spirit, and said a prayer in to myself, asking for what courage +I might lack, and that I might go straight to my duty like a soldier to +battle, and come off again scatheless as so many do.</p> + +<p>This train of reasoning brought me to a more resolved complexion; though +it was far from closing up my sense of the dangers that surrounded me, nor +of how very apt I was (if I went on) to stumble on the ladder of the +gallows. It was a plain, fair morning, but the wind in the east. The little +chill of it sang in my blood, and gave me a feeling of the autumn, and the +dead leaves, and dead folks' bodies in their graves. It seemed the devil +was in it, if I was to die in that tide of my fortunes and for other folks' +affairs. On the top of the Calton Hill, though it was not the customary +time of year for that diversion, some children were crying and running with +their kites. These toys appeared very plain against the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>[pg 30]</span>sky; I +remarked a great one soar on the wind to a high altitude and then plump +among the whins; and I thought to myself at sight of it, "There goes +Davie."</p> + +<p>My way lay over Mouter's Hill, and through an end of a clachan on the +braeside among fields. There was a whirr of looms in it went from house to +house; bees bummed in the gardens; the neighbours that I saw at the +doorsteps talked in a strange tongue; and I found out later that this was +Picardy, a village where the French weavers wrought for the Linen Company. +Here I got a fresh direction for Pilrig, my destination; and a little +beyond, on the wayside, came by a gibbet and two men hanged in chains. They +were dipped in tar, as the manner is; the wind span them, the chains +clattered, and the birds hung about the uncanny jumping-jacks and cried. +The sight coming on me suddenly, like an illustration of my fears, I could +scarce be done with examining it and drinking in discomfort. And as I thus +turned and turned about the gibbet, what should I strike on, but a weird +old wife, that sat behind a leg of it, and nodded, and talked aloud to +herself with becks and courtesies.</p> + +<p>"Who are these two, mother?" I asked, and pointed to the corpses.</p> + +<p>"A blessing on your precious face!" she cried. "Twa joes<sup><a +href="#fn7" name="rfn7">[7]</a></sup> o' mine: just twa o' my old joes, my +hinny dear."</p> + + +<a name="balfour002"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour002.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: WHAT DID THEY SUFFER FOR? I ASKED" src="images/balfour002sm.jpg" height="565" width="383" /></a> +<br />WHAT DID THEY SUFFER FOR? I ASKED + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>[pg +31]</span>"What did they suffer for?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Ou, just for the guid cause," said she. "Aften I spaed to them the way +that it would end. Twa shillin' Scots; no pickle mair; and there are twa +bonny callants hingin' for 't! They took it frae a wean<sup><a href="#fn8" +name="rfn8">[8]</a></sup> belanged to Brouchton."</p> + +<p>"Ay!" said I to myself, and not to the daft limmer, "and did they come +to such a figure for so poor a business? This is to lose all indeed."</p> + +<p>"Gie's your loof,<sup><a href="#fn9" name="rfn9">[9]</a></sup> hinny," +says she, "and let me spae your weird to ye."</p> + +<p>"No, mother," said I, "I see far enough the way I am. It's an unco thing +to see too far in front."</p> + +<p>"I read it in your bree," she said. "There's a bonnie lassie that has +bricht een, and there's a wee man in a braw coat, and a big man in a +pouthered wig, and there's the shadow of the wuddy,<sup><a href="#fn10" +name="rfn10">[10]</a></sup> joe, that lies braid across your path. Gie's +your loof, hinny, and let Auld Merren spae it to ye bonny."</p> + +<p>The two chance shots that seemed to point at Alan and the daughter of +James More, struck me hard; and I fled from the eldritch creature, casting +her a baubee, which she continued to sit and play with under the moving +shadows of the hanged.</p> + +<p>My way down the causeway of Leith Walk would have been more pleasant to +me but for this encounter. The old rampart ran among fields, the like of +them <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a>[pg +32]</span>I had never seen for artfulness of agriculture; I was pleased, +besides, to be so far in the still countryside; but the shackles of the +gibbet clattered in my head; and the mops and mows of the old witch, and +the thought of the dead men, hag-rode my spirits. To hang on a gallows, +that seemed a hard case; and whether a man came to hang there for two +shillings Scots, or (as Mr. Stewart had it) from the sense of duty, once he +was tarred and shackled and hung up, the difference seemed small. There +might David Balfour hang, and other lads pass on their errands and think +light of him; and old daft limmers sit at leg-foot and spae their fortunes; +and the clean genty maids go by, and look to the other side, and hold a +nose. I saw them plain, and they had grey eyes, and their screens upon +their heads were of the Drummond colours.</p> + +<p>I was thus in the poorest of spirits, though still pretty resolved, when +I came in view of Pilrig, a pleasant gabled house set by the walkside among +some brave young woods. The laird's horse was standing saddled at the door +as I came up, but himself was in the study, where he received me in the +midst of learned works and musical instruments, for he was not only a deep +philosopher but much of a musician. He greeted me at first pretty well, and +when he had read Rankeillor's letter, placed himself obligingly at my +disposal.</p> + +<p>"And what is it, cousin David?" says he--"since it appears that we are +cousins--what is this that I can <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" +id="Page_33"></a>[pg 33]</span>do for you? A word to Prestongrange? +Doubtless that is easily given. But what should be the word?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Balfour," said I, "if I were to tell you my whole story the way it +fell out, it's my opinion (and it was Rankeillor's before me) that you +would be very little made up with it."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to hear this of you, kinsman," says he.</p> + +<p>"I must not take that at your hands, Mr. Balfour," said I; "I have +nothing to my charge to make me sorry, or you for me, but just the common +infirmities of mankind. 'The guilt of Adam's first sin, the want of +original righteousness, and the corruption of my whole nature,' so much I +must answer for, and I hope I have been taught where to look for help," I +said; for I judged from the look of the man he would think the better of me +if I knew my questions.<sup><a href="#fn11" name="rfn11">[11]</a></sup> +"But in the way of worldly honour I have no great stumble to reproach +myself with; and my difficulties have befallen me very much against my will +and (by all that I can see) without my fault. My trouble is to have become +dipped in a political complication, which it is judged you would be blythe +to avoid a knowledge of."</p> + +<p>"Why, very well, Mr. David," he replied, "I am pleased to see you are +all that Rankeillor represented. And for what you say of political +complications, you do me no more than justice. It is my study to be beyond +suspicion, and indeed outside the field of it. The <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>[pg 34]</span>question is," says he, "how, +if I am to know nothing of the matter, I can very well assist you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said I, "I propose you should write to his lordship, that I +am a young man of reasonable good family and of good means: both of which I +believe to be the case."</p> + +<p>"I have Rankeillor's word for it," said Mr. Balfour, "and I count that a +warrandice against all deadly."</p> + +<p>"To which you might add (if you will take my word for so much) that I am +a good churchman, loyal to King George, and so brought up," I went on.</p> + +<p>"None of which will do you any harm," said Mr. Balfour.</p> + +<p>"Then you might go on to say that I sought his lordship on a matter of +great moment, connected with His Majesty's service and the administration +of justice," I suggested.</p> + +<p>"As I am not to hear the matter," says the laird, "I will not take upon +myself to qualify its weight. 'Great moment' therefore falls, and 'moment' +along with it. For the rest, I might express myself much as you +propose."</p> + +<p>"And then, sir," said I, and rubbed my neck a little with my thumb, +"then I would be very desirous if you could slip in a word that might +perhaps tell for my protection."</p> + +<p>"Protection?" says he. "For your protection? Here is a phrase that +somewhat dampens me. If the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" +id="Page_35"></a>[pg 35]</span>matter be so dangerous, I own I would be a +little loath to move in it blindfold."</p> + +<p>"I believe I could indicate in two words where the thing sticks," said +I.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps that would be the best," said he.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's the Appin murder," said I.</p> + +<p>He held up both the hands. "Sirs! sirs!" cried he.</p> + +<p>I thought by the expression of his face and voice that I had lost my +helper.</p> + +<p>"Let me explain ..." I began.</p> + +<p>"I thank you kindly, I will hear no more of it," says he. "I decline +<i>in toto</i> to hear more of it. For your name's sake and Rankeillor's, +and perhaps a little for your own, I will do what I can to help you; but I +will hear no more upon the facts. And it is my first clear duty to warn +you. These are deep waters, Mr. David, and you are a young man. Be cautious +and think twice."</p> + +<p>"It is to be supposed I will have thought oftener than that, Mr. +Balfour," said I, "and I will direct your attention again to Rankeillor's +letter, where (I hope and believe) he has registered his approval of that +which I design."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said he; and then again, "Well, well! I will do what I can +for you." Therewith he took a pen and paper, sat awhile in thought, and +began to write with much consideration. "I understand that <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a>[pg 36]</span>Rankeillor +approves of what you have in mind?" he asked presently.</p> + +<p>"After some discussion, sir, he bade me to go forward in God's name," +said I.</p> + +<p>"That is the name to go in," said Mr. Balfour, and resumed his writing. +Presently, he signed, re-read what he had written, and addressed me again. +"Now here, Mr. David," said he, "is a letter of introduction, which I will +seal without closing, and give into your hands open, as the form requires. +But since I am acting in the dark, I will just read it to you, so that you +may see if it will secure your end--</p> + +<blockquote> +"PILRIG, <i>August 26th</i>, 1751. + +<p>"MY LORD,--This is to bring to your notice my namesake and</p> +cousin, David Balfour Esquire of Shaws, a young gentleman +of unblemished descent and good estate. He has enjoyed besides +the more valuable advantages of a godly training, and his political +principles are all that your lordship can desire. I am not in +Mr. Balfour's confidence, but I understand him to have a matter +to declare, touching His Majesty's service and the administration +of justice: purposes for which your lordship's zeal is known. +I should add that the young gentleman's intention is known to +and approved by some of his friends, who will watch with hopeful +anxiety the event of his success or failure.' +</blockquote> + +<p>"Whereupon," continued Mr. Balfour, "I have subscribed myself with the +usual compliments. You observe I have said 'some of your friends;' I hope +you can justify my plural?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a>[pg +37]</span>"Perfectly, sir; my purpose is known and approved by more than +one," said I. "And your letter, which I take a pleasure to thank you for, +is all I could have hoped."</p> + +<p>"It was all I could squeeze out," said he; "and from what I know of the +matter you design to meddle in, I can only pray God that it may prove +sufficient."</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>[pg 38]</span><hr +/> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>LORD ADVOCATE PRESTONGRANGE</h3> + + +<p>My kinsman kept me to a meal, "for the honour of the roof," he said; and +I believe I made the better speed on my return. I had no thought but to be +done with the next stage, and have myself fully committed; to a person +circumstanced as I was, the appearance of closing a door on hesitation and +temptation was itself extremely tempting; and I was the more disappointed, +when I came to Prestongrange's house, to be informed he was abroad. I +believe it was true at the moment, and for some hours after; and then I +have no doubt the Advocate came home again, and enjoyed himself in a +neighbouring chamber among friends, while perhaps the very fact of my +arrival was forgotten. I would have gone away a dozen times, only for this +strong drawing to have done with my declaration out of hand and be able to +lay me down to sleep with a free conscience. At first I read, for the +little cabinet where I was left contained a variety of books. But I fear I +read with little profit; and the weather falling cloudy, the dusk coming up +earlier than usual, and my cabinet <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" +id="Page_39"></a>[pg 39]</span>being lighted with but a loophole of a +window, I was at last obliged to desist from this diversion (such as it +was), and pass the rest of my time of waiting in a very burthensome +vacuity. The sound of people talking in a naer chamber, the pleasant note +of a harpsichord, and once the voice of a lady singing, bore me a kind of +company.</p> + +<p>I do not know the hour, but the darkness was long come, when the door of +the cabinet opened, and I was aware, by the light behind him, of a tall +figure of a man upon the threshold. I rose at once.</p> + +<p>"Is anybody there?" he asked. "Who is that?"</p> + +<p>"I am bearer of a letter from the laird of Pilrig to the Lord Advocate," +said I.</p> + +<p>"Have you been here long?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I would not like to hazard an estimate of how many hours," said I.</p> + +<p>"It is the first I hear of it," he replied, with a chuckle. "The lads +must have forgotten you. But you are in the bit at last, for I am +Prestongrange."</p> + +<p>So saying, he passed before me into the next room, whither (upon his +sign) I followed him, and where he lit a candle and took his place before a +business-table. It was a long room, of a good proportion, wholly lined with +books. That small spark of light in a corner struck out the man's handsome +person and strong face. He was flushed, his eye watered and sparkled, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>[pg 40]</span>and before +he sat down I observed him to sway back and forth. No doubt he had been +supping liberally; but his mind and tongue were under full control.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, sit ye down," said he, "and let us see Pilrig's letter."</p> + +<p>He glanced it through in the beginning carelessly, looking up and bowing +when he came to my name; but at the last words I thought I observed his +attention to redouble, and I made sure he read them twice. All this while +you are to suppose my heart was beating, for I had now crossed my Rubicon +and was come fairly on the field of battle.</p> + +<p>"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Balfour," he said, when he +had done. "Let me offer you a glass of claret."</p> + +<p>"Under your favour, my lord, I think it would scarce be fair on me," +said I. "I have come here, as the letter will have mentioned, on a business +of some gravity to myself; and as I am little used with wine, I might be +the sooner affected."</p> + +<p>"You shall be the judge," said he. "But if you will permit, I believe I +will even have the bottle in myself."</p> + +<p>He touched a bell, and the footman came, as at a signal, bringing wine +and glasses.</p> + +<p>"You are sure you will not join me?" asked the Advocate. "Well, here is +to our better acquaintance! In what way can I serve you?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>[pg +41]</span>"I should perhaps begin by telling you, my lord, that I am here +at your own pressing invitation," said I.</p> + +<p>"You have the advantage of me somewhere," said he, "for I profess I +think I never heard of you before this evening."</p> + +<p>"Right, my lord; the name is indeed new to you," said I. "And yet you +have been for some time extremely wishful to make my acquaintance, and have +declared the same in public."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would afford me a clue," says he. "I am no Daniel."</p> + +<p>"It will perhaps serve for such," said I, "that if I was in a jesting +humour--which is far from the case--I believe I might lay a claim on your +lordship for two hundred pounds."</p> + +<p>"In what sense?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"In the sense of rewards offered for my person," said I.</p> + +<p>He thrust away his glass once and for all, and sat straight up in the +chair where he had been previously lolling. "What am I to understand?" said +he.</p> + +<p>"<i>A tall strong lad of about eighteen</i>," I quoted, "<i>speaks like +a Lowlander, and has no beard</i>."</p> + +<p>"I recognise those words," said he, "which, if you have come here with +any ill-judged intention of amusing yourself, are like to prove extremely +prejudicial to your safety."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a>[pg +42]</span>"My purpose in this," I replied, "is just entirely as serious as +life and death, and you have understood me perfectly. I am the boy who was +speaking with Glenure when he was shot."</p> + +<p>"I can only suppose (seeing you here) that you claim to be innocent," +said he.</p> + +<p>"The inference is clear," I said. "I am a very loyal subject to King +George, but if I had anything to reproach myself with, I would have had +more discretion than to walk into your den."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," said he. "This horrid crime, Mr. Balfour, is of a +dye which cannot permit any clemency. Blood has been barbarously shed. It +has been shed in direct opposition to his Majesty and our whole frame of +laws, by those who are their known and public oppugnants. I take a very +high sense of this. I will not deny that I consider the crime as directly +personal to his Majesty."</p> + +<p>"And unfortunately, my lord," I added a little drily, "directly personal +to another great personage who may be nameless."</p> + +<p>"If you mean anything by those words, I must tell you I consider them +unfit for a good subject; and were they spoke publicly I should make it my +business to take note of them," said he. "You do not appear to me to +recognise the gravity of your situation, or you would be more careful not +to pejorate the same by words which glance upon the purity of justice. +Justice, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>[pg +43]</span>in this country, and in my poor hands, is no respecter of +persons."</p> + +<p>"You give me too great a share in my own speech, my lord," said I. "I +did but repeat the common talk of the country, which I have heard +everywhere, and from men of all opinions as I came along."</p> + +<p>"When you are come to more discretion you will understand such talk is +not to be listened to, how much less repeated," says the Advocate. "But I +acquit you of an ill intention. That nobleman, whom we all honour and who +has indeed been wounded in a near place by the late barbarity, sits too +high to be reached by these aspersions. The Duke of Argyle--you see that I +deal plainly with you--takes it to heart as I do, and as we are both bound +to do by our judicial functions and the service of his Majesty; and I could +wish that all hands, in this ill age, were equally clean of family rancour. +But from the accident that this is a Campbell who has fallen martyr to his +duty--as who else but the Campbells have ever put themselves foremost on +that path? I may say it, who am no Campbell--and that the chief of that +great house happens (for all our advantages) to be the present head of the +College of Justice, small minds and disaffected tongues are set agog in +every changehouse in the country; and I find a young gentleman like Mr. +Balfour so ill-advised as to make himself their echo." So much he spoke +with a very oratorical delivery, as if in court, and then <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a>[pg 44]</span>declined +again upon the manner of a gentleman. "All this apart," said he. "It now +remains that I should learn what I am to do with you."</p> + +<p>"I had thought it was rather I that should learn the same from your +lordship," said I.</p> + +<p>"Ay, true," says the Advocate. "But, you see, you come to me well +recommended. There is a good honest Whig name to this letter," says he, +picking it up a moment from the table. "And--extra-judicially, Mr. +Balfour--there is always the possibility of some arrangement. I tell you, +and I tell you beforehand that you may be the more upon your guard, your +fate lies with me singly. In such a matter (be it said with reverence) I am +more powerful than the king's Majesty; and should you please me--and of +course satisfy my conscience--in what remains to be held of our interview, +I tell you it may remain between ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Meaning how?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, I mean it thus, Mr. Balfour," said he, "that if you give +satisfaction, no soul need know so much as that you visited my house; and +you may observe that I do not even call my clerk."</p> + +<p>I saw what way he was driving. "I suppose it is needless anyone should +be informed upon my visit," said I, "though the precise nature of my gains +by that I cannot see. I am not at all ashamed of coming here."</p> + +<p>"And have no cause to be," says he, encouragingly. "Nor yet (if you are +careful) to fear the consequences."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>[pg +45]</span>"My lord," said I, "speaking under your correction, I am not very +easy to be frightened."</p> + +<p>"And I am sure I do not seek to frighten you," says he. "But to the +interrogation; and let me warn you to volunteer nothing beyond the +questions I shall ask you. It may consist very immediately with your +safety. I have a great discretion, it is true, but there are bounds to +it."</p> + +<p>"I shall try to follow your lordship's advice," said I.</p> + +<p>He spread a sheet of paper on the table and wrote a heading. "It appears +you were present, by the way, in the wood of Lettermore at the moment of +the fatal shot," he began. "Was this by accident?"</p> + +<p>"By accident," said I.</p> + +<p>"How came you in speech with Colin Campbell?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I was inquiring my way of him to Aucharn," I replied.</p> + +<p>I observed he did not write this answer down.</p> + +<p>"H'm, true," said he, "I had forgotten that. And do you know, Mr. +Balfour, I would dwell, if I were you, as little as might be on your +relations with these Stewarts? It might be found to complicate our +business. I am not yet inclined to regard these matters as essential."</p> + +<p>"I had thought, my lord, that all points of fact were equally material +in such a case," said I.</p> + +<p>"You forget we are now trying these Stewarts," he <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a>[pg 46]</span>replied, +with great significance. "If we should ever come to be trying you, it will +be very different; and I shall press these very questions that I am now +willing to glide upon. But to resume: I have it here in Mr. Mungo +Campbell's precognition that you ran immediately up the brae. How came +that?"</p> + +<p>"Not immediately, my lord, and the cause was my seeing of the +murderer."</p> + +<p>"You saw him, then?"</p> + +<p>"As plain as I see your lordship, though not so near hand."</p> + +<p>"You know him?"</p> + +<p>"I should know him again."</p> + +<p>"In your pursuit you were not so fortunate, then, as to overtake +him?"</p> + +<p>"I was not."</p> + +<p>"Was he alone?"</p> + +<p>"He was alone."</p> + +<p>"There was no one else in that neighbourhood?"</p> + +<p>"Alan Breck Stewart was not far off, in a piece of a wood."</p> + +<p>The Advocate laid his pen down. "I think we are playing at cross +purposes," said he, "which you will find to prove a very ill amusement for +yourself."</p> + +<p>"I content myself with following your lordship's advice, and answering +what I am asked," said I.</p> + +<p>"Be so wise as to bethink yourself in time," said he. "I use you with +the most anxious tenderness, which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" +id="Page_47"></a>[pg 47]</span>you scarce seem to appreciate, and which +(unless you be more careful) may prove to be in vain."</p> + +<p>"I do appreciate your tenderness, but conceive it to be mistaken," I +replied, with something of a falter, for I saw we were come to grips at +last. "I am here to lay before you certain information, by which I shall +convince you Alan had no hand whatever in the killing of Glenure."</p> + +<p>The Advocate appeared for a moment at a stick, sitting with pursed lips, +and blinking his eyes upon me like an angry cat. "Mr. Balfour," he said at +last, "I tell you pointedly you go an ill way for your own interests."</p> + +<p>"My lord," I said, "I am as free of the charge of considering my own +interests in this matter as your lordship. As God judges me, I have but the +one design, and that is to see justice executed and the innocent go clear. +If in pursuit of that I come to fall under your lordship's displeasure, I +must bear it as I may."</p> + +<p>At this he rose from his chair, lit a second candle, and for a while +gazed upon me steadily. I was surprised to see a great change of gravity +fallen upon his face, and I could have almost thought he was a little +pale.</p> + +<p>"You are either very simple, or extremely the reverse, and I see that I +must deal with you more confidentially," says he. "This is a political +case--ah, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>[pg +48]</span>yes, Mr. Balfour! whether we like it or no, the case is +political--and I tremble when I think what issues may depend from it. To a +political case, I need scarce tell a young man of your education, we +approach with very different thoughts from one which is criminal only. +<i>Salus populi suprema lex</i> is a maxim susceptible of great abuse, but +it has that force which we find elsewhere only in the laws of nature: I +mean it has the force of necessity. I will open this out to you, if you +will allow me, at more length. You would have me believe--"</p> + +<p>"Under your pardon, my lord, I would have you to believe nothing but +that which I can prove," said I.</p> + +<p>"Tut! tut! young gentleman," says he, "be not so pragmatical, and suffer +a man who might be your father (if it was nothing more) to employ his own +imperfect language, and express his own poor thoughts, even when they have +the misfortune not to coincide with Mr. Balfour's. You would have me to +believe Breck innocent. I would think this of little account, the more so +as we cannot catch our man. But the matter of Breck's innocence shoots +beyond itself. Once admitted, it would destroy the whole presumptions of +our case against another and a very different criminal; a man grown old in +treason, already twice in arms against his king and already twice forgiven; +a fomenter of discontent, and (whoever may have fired the shot) the +unmistakable original of the deed in <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>[pg 49]</span>question. I need not tell you +that I mean James Stewart."</p> + +<p>"And I can just say plainly that the innocence of Alan and of James is +what I am here to declare in private to your lordship, and what I am +prepared to establish at the trial by my testimony," said I.</p> + +<p>"To which I can only answer by an equal plainness, Mr. Balfour," said +he, "that (in that case) your testimony will not be called by me, and I +desire you to withhold it altogether."</p> + +<p>"You are at the head of Justice in this country," I cried, "and you +propose to me a crime!"</p> + +<p>"I am a man nursing with both hands the interests of this country," he +replied, "and I press on you a political necessity. Patriotism is not +always moral in the formal sense. You might be glad of it, I think: it is +your own protection; the facts are heavy against you; and if I am still +trying to except you from a very dangerous place, it is in part of course +because I am not insensible to your honesty in coming here; in part because +of Pilrig's letter; but in part, and in chief part, because I regard in +this matter my political duty first and my judicial duty only second. For +the same reason--I repeat it to you in the same frank words--I do not want +your testimony."</p> + +<p>"I desire not to be thought to make a repartee, when I express only the +plain sense of our position," said I. "But if your lordship has no need of +my testimony, I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" +id="Page_50"></a>[pg 50]</span>believe the other side would be extremely +blythe to get it."</p> + +<p>Prestongrange arose and began to pace to and fro in the room. "You are +not so young," he said, "but what you must remember very clearly the year +'45 and the shock that went about the country. I read in Pilrig's letter +that you are sound in Kirk and State. Who saved them in that fatal year? I +do not refer to his Royal Highness and his ramrods, which were extremely +useful in their day; but the country had been saved and the field won +before ever Cumberland came upon Drummossie. Who saved it? I repeat; who +saved the Protestant religion and the whole frame of our civil +institutions? The late Lord President Culloden, for one; he played a man's +part, and small thanks he got for it--even as I, whom you see before you, +straining every nerve in the same service, look for no reward beyond the +conscience of my duties done. After the President, who else? You know the +answer as well as I do; 'tis partly a scandal, and you glanced at it +yourself, and I reproved you for it, when you first came in. It was the +Duke and the great clan of Campbell. Now here is a Campbell foully +murdered, and that in the King's service. The Duke and I are Highlanders. +But we are Highlanders civilised, and it is not so with the great mass of +our clans and families. They have still savage virtues and defects. They +are still barbarians, like these Stewarts; <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a>[pg 51]</span>only the Campbells were +barbarians on the right side, and the Stewarts were barbarians on the +wrong. Now be you the judge. The Campbells expect vengeance. If they do not +get it--if this man James escape--there will be trouble with the Campbells. +That means disturbance in the Highlands, which are uneasy and very far from +being disarmed: the disarming is a farce...."</p> + +<p>"I can bear you out in that," said I.</p> + +<p>"Disturbance in the Highlands makes the hour of our old watchful enemy," +pursued his lordship, holding out a finger as he paced; "and I give you my +word we may have a '45 again with the Campbells on the other side. To +protect the life of this man Stewart--which is forfeit already on +half-a-dozen different counts if not on this--do you propose to plunge your +country in war, to jeopardise the faith of your fathers, and to expose the +lives and fortunes of how many thousand innocent persons? . . . These are +considerations that weigh with me, and that I hope will weigh no less with +yourself, Mr. Balfour, as a lover of your country, good government, and +religious truth."</p> + +<p>"You deal with me very frankly, and I thank you for it," said I. "I will +try on my side to be no less honest. I believe your policy to be sound. I +believe these deep duties may lie upon your lordship; I believe you may +have laid them on your conscience when you took the oaths of the high +office which you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" +id="Page_52"></a>[pg 52]</span>hold. But for me, who am just a plain +man--or scarce a man yet--the plain duties must suffice. I can think but of +two things, of a poor soul in the immediate and unjust danger of a shameful +death, and of the cries and tears of his wife that still tingle in my head. +I cannot see beyond, my lord. It's the way that I am made. If the country +has to fall, it has to fall. And I pray God, if this be wilful blindness, +that he may enlighten me before too late."</p> + +<p>He had heard me motionless, and stood so a while longer.</p> + +<p>"This is an unexpected obstacle," says he, aloud, but to himself.</p> + +<p>"And how is your lordship to dispose of me?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"If I wished," said he, "you know that you might sleep in gaol?"</p> + +<p>"My lord," says I, "I have slept in worse places."</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy," said he, "there is one thing appears very plainly from +our interview, that I may rely on your pledged word. Give me your honour +that you will be wholly secret, not only on what has passed to-night, but +in the matter of the Appin case, and I let you go free."</p> + +<p>"I will give it till to-morrow or any other near day that you may please +to set," said I. "I would not be thought too wily; but if I gave the +promise without qualification, your lordship would have attained his +end."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a>[pg +53]</span>"I had no thought to entrap you," said he.</p> + +<p>"I am sure of that," said I.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," he continued. "To-morrow is the Sabbath. Come to me on +Monday by eight in the morning, and give me your promise until then."</p> + +<p>"Freely given, my lord," said I. "And with regard to what has fallen +from yourself, I will give it for as long as it shall please God to spare +your days."</p> + +<p>"You will observe," he said next, "that I have made no employment of +menaces."</p> + +<p>"It was like your lordship's nobility," said I. "Yet I am not altogether +so dull but what I can perceive the nature of those you have not +uttered."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "good-night to you. May you sleep well, for I think it +is more than I am like to do."</p> + +<p>With that he sighed, took up a candle, and gave me his conveyance as far +as the street door.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a>[pg 54]</span><hr +/> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_V'></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>IN THE ADVOCATE'S HOUSE</h3> + + +<p>The next day, Sabbath, August 27th, I had the occasion I had long looked +forward to, to hear some of the famous Edinburgh preachers, all well known +to me already by the report of Mr. Campbell. Alas! and I might just as well +have been at Essendean, and sitting under Mr. Campbell's worthy self! the +turmoil of my thoughts, which dwelt continually on the interview with +Prestongrange, inhibiting me from all attention. I was indeed much less +impressed by the reasoning of the divines than by the spectacle of the +thronged congregation in the churches, like what I imagined of a theatre or +(in my then disposition) of an assize of trial; above all at the West Kirk, +with its three tiers of galleries, where I went in the vain hope that I +might see Miss Drummond.</p> + +<p>On the Monday I betook me for the first time to a barber's, and was very +well pleased with the result. Thence to the Advocate's, where the red coats +of the soldiers showed again about his door, making a bright place in the +close. I looked about for the young lady <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>[pg 55]</span>and her gillies; there was +never a sign of them. But I was no sooner shown into the cabinet or +antechamber, where I had spent so wearyful a time upon the Saturday, than I +was aware of the tall figure of James More in a corner. He seemed a prey to +a painful uneasiness, reaching forth his feet and hands, and his eyes +speeding here and there without rest about the walls of the small chamber, +which recalled to me with a sense of pity the man's wretched situation. I +suppose it was partly this, and partly my strong continuing interest in his +daughter, that moved me to accost him.</p> + +<p>"Give you a good-morning, sir," said I.</p> + +<p>"And a good-morning to you, sir," said he.</p> + +<p>"You bide tryst with Prestongrange?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I do, sir, and I pray your business with that gentleman be more +agreeable than mine," was his reply.</p> + +<p>"I hope at least that yours will be brief, for I suppose you pass before +me," said I.</p> + +<p>"All pass before me," he said, with a shrug and a gesture upward of the +open hands. "It was not always so, sir, but times change. It was not so +when the sword was in the scale, young gentleman, and the virtues of the +soldier might sustain themselves."</p> + +<p>There came a kind of Highland snuffle out of the man that raised my +dander strangely.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Macgregor," said I, "I understand the main thing for a +soldier is to be silent, and the first of his virtues never to +complain."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a>[pg +56]</span>"You have my name, I perceive"--he bowed to me with his arms +crossed--"though it's one I must not use myself. Well, there is a +publicity--I have shown my face and told my name too often in the beards of +my enemies. I must not wonder if both should be known to many that I know +not."</p> + +<p>"That you know not in the least, sir," said I, "nor yet anybody else; +but the name I am called, if you care to hear it, is Balfour."</p> + +<p>"It is a good name," he replied, civilly; "there are many decent folk +that use it. And now that I call to mind, there was a young gentleman, your +namesake, that marched surgeon in the year '45 with my battalion."</p> + +<p>"I believe that would be a brother to Balfour of Baith," said I, for I +was ready for the surgeon now.</p> + +<p>"The same, sir," said James More. "And since I have been fellow-soldier +with your kinsman, you must suffer me to grasp your hand."</p> + +<p>He shook hands with me long and tenderly, beaming on me the while as +though he had found a brother.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" says he, "these are changed days since your cousin and I heard the +balls whistle in our lugs."</p> + +<p>"I think he was a very far-away cousin," said I, drily, "and I ought to +tell you that I never clapped eyes upon the man."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said he, "it makes no change. And you--I do not think you +were out yourself, sir--I have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" +id="Page_57"></a>[pg 57]</span>no clear mind of your face, which is one not +probable to be forgotten."</p> + +<p>"In the year you refer to, Mr. Macgregor, I was getting skelped in the +parish school," said I.</p> + +<p>"So young!" cries he. "Ah, then you will never be able to think what +this meeting is to me. In the hour of my adversity, and in the house of my +enemy, to meet in with the blood of an old brother-in-arms--it heartens me, +Mr. Balfour, like the skirling of the Highland pipes! Sir, this is a sad +look-back that many of us have to make: some with falling tears. I have +lived in my own country like a king; my sword, my mountains, and the faith +of my friends and kinsmen sufficed for me. Now I lie in a stinking dungeon; +and do you know, Mr. Balfour," he went on, taking my arm and beginning to +lead me about, "do you know, sir, that I lack mere necessaries? The malice +of my foes has quite sequestered my resources. I lie, as you know, sir, on +a trumped-up charge, of which I am as innocent as yourself. They dare not +bring me to my trial, and in the meanwhile I am held naked in my prison. I +could have wished it was your cousin I had met, or his brother Baith +himself. Either would, I know, have been rejoiced to help me; while a +comparative stranger like yourself--"</p> + +<p>I would be ashamed to set down all he poured out to me in this beggarly +vein, or the very short and grudging answers that I made to him. There were +times <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>[pg +58]</span>when I was tempted to stop his mouth with some small change; but +whether it was from shame or pride--whether it was for my own sake or +Catriona's--whether it was because I thought him no fit father for his +daughter, or because I resented that grossness of immediate falsity that +clung about the man himself--the thing was clean beyond me. And I was still +being wheedled and preached to, and still being marched to and fro, three +steps and a turn, in that small chamber, and had already, by some very +short replies, highly incensed, although not finally discouraged, my +beggar, when Prestongrange appeared in the doorway and bade me eagerly into +his big chamber.</p> + +<p>"I have a moment's engagement," said he; "and that you may not sit +empty-handed I am going to present you to my three braw daughters, of whom +perhaps you may have heard, for I think they are more famous than papa. +This way."</p> + +<p>He led me into another long room above, where a dry old lady sat at a +frame of embroidery, and the three handsomest young women (I suppose) in +Scotland stood together by a window.</p> + +<p>"This is my new friend, Mr. Balfour," said he, presenting me by the arm. +"David, here is my sister, Miss Grant, who is so good as keep my house for +me, and will be very pleased if she can help you. And here," says he, +turning to the three younger ladies, "here are my <i>three braw +dauchters</i>. A fair question <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" +id="Page_59"></a>[pg 59]</span>to ye, Mr. Davie: which of the three is the +best favoured? And I wager he will never have the impudence to propound +honest Alan Ramsay's answer!"</p> + +<p>Hereupon all three, and the old Miss Grant as well, cried out against +this sally, which (as I was acquainted with the verses he referred to) +brought shame into my own cheek. It seemed to me a citation unpardonable in +a father, and I was amazed that these ladies could laugh even while they +reproved, or made believe to.</p> + +<p>Under cover of this mirth, Prestongrange got forth of the chamber, and I +was left, like a fish upon dry land, in that very unsuitable society. I +could never deny, in looking back upon what followed, that I was eminently +stockish; and I must say the ladies were well drilled to have so long a +patience with me. The aunt indeed sat close at her embroidery, only looking +now and again and smiling; but the misses, and especially the eldest, who +was besides the most handsome, paid me a score of attentions which I was +very ill able to repay. It was all in vain to tell myself I was a young +fellow of some worth as well as good estate, and had no call to feel +abashed before these lasses, the eldest not so much older than myself, and +no one of them by any probability half as learned. Reasoning would not +change the fact; and there were times when the colour came into my face to +think I was shaved that day for the first time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>[pg +60]</span>The talk going, with all their endeavours, very heavily, the +eldest took pity on my awkwardness, sat down to her instrument, of which +she was a passed mistress, and entertained me for a while with playing and +singing, both in the Scots and in the Italian manners; this put me more at +my ease, and being reminded of Alan's air that he had taught me in the hole +near Carriden, I made so bold as to whistle a bar or two, and ask if she +knew that.</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "I never heard a note of it," said she. "Whistle it +all through. And now once again," she added, after I had done so.</p> + +<p>Then she picked it out upon the keyboard, and (to my surprise) instantly +enriched the same with well-sounding chords, and sang, as she played, with +a very droll expression and broad accent:</p> + +<blockquote> +"Haenae I got just the lilt of it?<br /> +Isnae this the tune that ye whustled?"<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>"You see," she says, "I can do the poetry too, only it won't rhyme." And +then again:</p> + +<blockquote> +"I am Miss Grant, sib to the Advocate:<br /> +You, I believe, are Dauvit Balfour."<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>I told her how much astonished I was by her genius.</p> + +<p>"And what do you call the name of it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I do not know the real name," said I. "I just call it <i>Alan's +air</i>."</p> + +<p>She looked at me directly in the face. "I shall call <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>[pg 61]</span>it +<i>David's air</i>," said she; "though if it's the least like what your +namesake of Israel played to Saul I would never wonder that the king got +little good by it, for it's but melancholy music. Your other name I do not +like; so, if you was ever wishing to hear your tune again you are to ask +for it by mine."</p> + +<p>This was said with a significance that gave my heart a jog. "Why that, +Miss Grant?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Why," says she, "if ever you should come to get hanged, I will set your +last dying speech and confession to that tune and sing it."</p> + +<p>This put it beyond a doubt that she was partly informed of my story and +peril. How, or just how much, it was more difficult to guess. It was plain +she knew there was something of danger in the name of Alan, and thus warned +me to leave it out of reference; and plain she knew that I stood under some +criminal suspicion. I judged besides that the harshness of her last speech +(which besides she had followed up immediately with a very noisy piece of +music) was to put an end to the present conversation. I stood beside her, +affecting to listen and admire, but truly whirled away by my own thoughts. +I have always found this young lady to be a lover of the mysterious; and +certainly this first interview made a mystery that was beyond my plummet. +One thing I learned long after, the hours of the Sunday had been well +employed, the bank porter had been found and examined, my visit to Charles +Stewart was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>[pg +62]</span>discovered, and the deduction made that I was pretty deep with +James and Alan, and most likely in a continued correspondence with the +last. Hence this broad hint that was given me across the harpsichord.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the piece of music, one of the younger misses, who was +at a window over the close, cried on her sisters to come quick, for there +was "<i>Grey eyes</i> again." The whole family trooped there at once, and +crowded one another for a look. The window whither they ran was in an odd +corner of that room, gave above the entrance door, and flanked up the +close.</p> + +<p>"Come, Mr. Balfour," they cried, "come and see. She is the most +beautiful creature! She hangs round the close-head these last days, always +with some wretched-like gillies, and yet seems quite a lady."</p> + +<p>I had no need to look; neither did I look twice, or long. I was afraid +she might have seen me there, looking down upon her from that chamber of +music, and she without, and her father in the same house, perhaps begging +for his life with tears, and myself come but newly from rejecting his +petitions. But even that glance set me in a better conceit of myself, and +much less awe of the young ladies. They were beautiful, that was beyond +question, but Catriona was beautiful too, and had a kind of brightness in +her like a coal of fire. As much as the others cast me down, she lifted me +up. I remembered I had talked easily with her. If I could make no hand of +it with these fine maids, it was perhaps <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>[pg 63]</span>something their own fault. My +embarrassment began to be a little mingled and lightened with a sense of +fun; and when the aunt smiled at me from her embroidery, and the three +daughters unbent to me like a baby, all with "papa's orders" written on +their faces, there were times when I could have found it in my heart to +smile myself.</p> + +<p>Presently papa returned, the same kind, happy-like, pleasant-spoken +man.</p> + +<p>"Now, girls," said he, "I must take Mr. Balfour away again; but I hope +you have been able to persuade him to return where I shall be always +gratified to find him."</p> + +<p>So they each made me a little farthing compliment, and I was led +away.</p> + +<p>If this visit to the family had been meant to soften my resistance, it +was the worst of failures. I was no such ass but what I understood how poor +a figure I had made, and that the girls would be yawning their jaws off as +soon as my stiff back was turned. I felt I had shown how little I had in me +of what was soft and graceful; and I longed for a chance to prove that I +had something of the other stuff, the stern and dangerous.</p> + +<p>Well, I was to be served to my desire, for the scene to which he was +conducting me was of a different character.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>[pg 64]</span><hr +/> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>UMQUILE THE MASTER OF LOVAT</h3> + + +<p>There was a man waiting us in Prestongrange's study, whom I distasted at +the first look, as we distaste a ferret or an earwig. He was bitter ugly, +but seemed very much of a gentleman; had still manners, but capable of +sudden leaps and violences; and a small voice, which could ring out shrill +and dangerous when he so desired.</p> + +<p>The Advocate presented us in a familiar, friendly way.</p> + +<p>"Here, Fraser," said he, "here is Mr. Balfour whom we talked about. Mr. +David, this is Mr. Symon Fraser, whom we used to call by another title, but +that is an old song. Mr. Fraser has an errand to you."</p> + +<p>With that he stepped aside to his book-shelves, and made believe to +consult a quarto volume in the far end.</p> + +<p>I was thus left (in a sense) alone with perhaps the last person in the +world I had expected. There was no doubt upon the terms of introduction; +this could be no other than the forfeited Master of Lovat and chief of the +great clan Fraser. I knew he had led his men in <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>[pg 65]</span>the Rebellion; I knew his +father's head--my old lord's, that grey fox of the mountains--to have +fallen on the block for that offence, the lands of the family to have been +seized, and their nobility attainted. I could not conceive what he should +be doing in Grant's house; I could not conceive that he had been called to +the bar, had eaten all his principles, and was now currying favour with the +Government even to the extent of acting Advocate-Depute in the Appin +murder.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Balfour," said he, "what is all this I hear of ye?"</p> + +<p>"It would not become me to prejudge," said I, "but if the Advocate was +your authority he is fully possessed of my opinions."</p> + +<p>"I may tell you I am engaged in the Appin case," he went on; "I am to +appear under Prestongrange; and from my study of the precognitions I can +assure you your opinions are erroneous. The guilt of Breck is manifest; and +your testimony, in which you admit you saw him on the hill at the very +moment, will certify his hanging."</p> + +<p>"It will be rather ill to hang him till you catch him," I observed. "And +for other matters I very willingly leave you to your own impressions."</p> + +<p>"The Duke has been informed," he went on. "I have just come from his +Grace, and he expressed himself before me with an honest freedom like the +great nobleman he is. He spoke of you by name, Mr. Balfour, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>[pg 66]</span>and +declared his gratitude beforehand in case you would be led by those who +understand your own interests and those of the country so much better than +yourself. Gratitude is no empty expression in that mouth: <i>experto +crede</i>. I daresay you know something of my name and clan, and the +damnable example and lamented end of my late father, to say nothing of my +own errata. Well, I have made my peace with that good Duke; he has +intervened for me with our friend Prestongrange; and here I am with my foot +in the stirrup again and some of the responsibility shared into my hand of +prosecuting King George's enemies and avenging the late daring and +barefaced insult to his Majesty."</p> + +<p>"Doubtless a proud position for your father's son," says I.</p> + +<p>He wagged his bald eyebrows at me. "You are pleased to make experiments +in the ironical, I think," said he. "But I am here upon duty, I am here to +discharge my errand in good faith, it is in vain you think to divert me. +And let me tell you, for a young fellow of spirit and ambition like +yourself, a good shove in the beginning will do more than ten years' +drudgery. The shove is now at your command; choose what you will to be +advanced in, the Duke will watch upon you with the affectionate disposition +of a father."</p> + +<p>"I am thinking that I lack the docility of the son," says I.</p> + +<p>"And do you really suppose, sir, that the whole policy <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a>[pg 67]</span>of this +country is to be suffered to trip up and tumble down for an ill-mannered +colt of a boy?" he cried. "This has been made a test case, all who would +prosper in the future must put a shoulder to the wheel. Look at me! Do you +suppose it is for my pleasure that I put myself in the highly invidious +position of prosecuting a man that I have drawn the sword alongside of? The +choice is not left me."</p> + +<p>"But I think, sir, that you forfeited your choice when you mixed in with +that unnatural rebellion," I remarked. "My case is happily otherwise; I am +a true man, and can look either the Duke or King George in the face without +concern."</p> + +<p>"Is it so the wind sits?" says he. "I protest you are fallen in the +worst sort of error. Prestongrange has been hitherto so civil (he tells me) +as not to combat your allegations; but you must not think they are not +looked upon with strong suspicion. You say you are innocent. My dear sir, +the facts declare you guilty."</p> + +<p>"I was waiting for you there," said I.</p> + +<p>"The evidence of Mungo Campbell; your flight after the completion of the +murder; your long course of secresy--my good young man!" said Mr. Symon, +"here is enough evidence to hang a bullock, let be a David Balfour! I shall +be upon that trial; my voice shall be raised; I shall then speak much +otherwise from what I do to-day, and far less to your gratification, little +as you like it now! Ah, you look white!" cries he. "I have <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>[pg 68]</span>found the +key of your impudent heart. You look pale, your eyes waver, Mr. David! You +see the grave and the gallows nearer by than you had fancied."</p> + +<p>"I own to a natural weakness," said I. "I think no shame for that. Shame +. . ." I was going on.</p> + +<p>"Shame waits for you on the gibbet," he broke in.</p> + +<p>"Where I shall but be even'd with my lord your father," said I.</p> + +<p>"Aha, but not so!" he cried, "and you do not yet see to the bottom of +this business. My father suffered in a great cause, and for dealing in the +affairs of kings. You are to hang for a dirty murder about boddle-pieces. +Your personal part in it, the treacherous one of holding the poor wretch in +talk, your accomplices a pack of ragged Highland gillies. And it can be +shown, my great Mr. Balfour--it can be shown, and it <i>will</i> be shown, +trust <i>me</i> that has a finger in the pie--it can be shown, and shall be +shown, that you were paid to do it. I think I can see the looks go round +the court when I adduce my evidence, and it shall appear that you, a young +man of education, let yourself be corrupted to this shocking act for a suit +of cast clothes, a bottle of Highland spirits, and +three-and-fivepence-halfpenny in copper money."</p> + +<p>There was a touch of the truth in these words that knocked me like a +blow: clothes, a bottle of <i>usquebaugh</i>, and +three-and-fivepence-halfpenny in change <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a>[pg 69]</span>made up, indeed, the most of +what Alan and I had carried from Aucharn; and I saw that some of James's +people had been blabbing in their dungeons.</p> + +<p>"You see I know more than you fancied," he resumed in triumph. "And as +for giving it this turn, great Mr. David, you must not suppose the +Government of Great Britain and Ireland will ever be stuck for want of +evidence. We have men here in prison who will swear out their lives as we +direct them; as I direct, if you prefer the phrase. So now you are to guess +your part of glory if you choose to die. On the one hand, life, wine, +women, and a duke to be your hand-gun; on the other, a rope to your craig, +and a gibbet to clatter your bones on, and the lousiest, lowest story to +hand down to your namesakes in the future that was ever told about a hired +assassin. And see here!" he cried, with a formidable shrill voice, "see +this paper that I pull out of my pocket. Look at the name there: it is the +name of the great David, I believe, the ink scarce dry yet. Can you guess +its nature? It is the warrant for your arrest, which I have but to touch +this bell beside me to have executed on the spot. Once in the Tolbooth upon +this paper, may God help you, for the die is cast!"</p> + +<p>I must never deny that I was greatly horrified by so much baseness, and +much unmanned by the immediacy and ugliness of my danger. Mr. Symon had +already gloried in the changes of my hue; I make no doubt I <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>[pg 70]</span>was now no +ruddier than my shirt; my speech besides trembled.</p> + +<p>"There is a gentleman in this room," cried I. "I appeal to him. I put my +life and credit in his hands."</p> + +<p>Prestongrange shut his book with a snap. "I told you so, Symon," said +he; "you have played your hand for all it was worth, and you have lost. Mr. +David," he went on, "I wish you to believe it was by no choice of mine you +were subjected to this proof. I wish you could understand how glad I am you +should come forth from it with so much credit. You may not quite see how, +but it is a little of a service to myself. For had our friend here been +more successful than I was last night, it might have appeared that he was a +better judge of men than I; it might have appeared we were altogether in +the wrong situations, Mr. Symon and myself. And I know our friend Symon to +be ambitious," says he, striking lightly on Fraser's shoulder. "As for this +stage play, it is over; my sentiments are very much engaged in your behalf; +and whatever issue we can find to this unfortunate affair, I shall make it +my business to see it is adopted with tenderness to you."</p> + +<p>These were very good words, and I could see besides that there was +little love, and perhaps a spice of genuine ill-will, between those two who +were opposed to me. For all that, it was unmistakable this interview had +been designed, perhaps rehearsed, with the consent of <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>[pg 71]</span>both; it +was plain my adversaries were in earnest to try me by all methods; and now +(persuasion, flattery, and menaces having been tried in vain) I could not +but wonder what would be their next expedient. My eyes besides were still +troubled, and my knees loose under me, with the distress of the late +ordeal; and I could do no more than stammer the same form of words: "I put +my life and credit in your hands."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," says he, "we must try to save them. And in the meanwhile +let us return to gentler methods. You must not bear any grudge upon my +friend, Mr. Symon, who did but speak by his brief. And even if you did +conceive some malice against myself, who stood by and seemed rather to hold +a candle, I must not let that extend to innocent members of my family. +These are greatly engaged to see more of you, and I cannot consent to have +my young women-folk disappointed. To-morrow they will be going to Hope +Park, where I think it very proper you should make your bow. Call for me +first, when I may possibly have something for your private hearing; then +you shall be turned abroad again under the conduct of my misses; and until +that time repeat to me your promise of secrecy."</p> + +<p>I had done better to have instantly refused, but in truth I was beside +the power of reasoning; did as I was bid; took my leave I know not how; and +when I was forth again in the close, and the door had shut behind me, was +glad to lean on a house wall and wipe my face. <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a>[pg 72]</span>That horrid apparition (as I +may call it) of Mr. Symon rang in my memory, as a sudden noise rings after +it is over on the ear. Tales of the man's father, of his falseness, of his +manifold perpetual treacheries, rose before me from all that I had heard +and read, and joined on with what I had just experienced of himself. Each +time it occurred to me, the ingenious foulness of that calumny he had +proposed to nail upon my character startled me afresh. The case of the man +upon the gibbet by Leith Walk appeared scarce distinguishable from that I +was now to consider as my own. To rob a child of so little more than +nothing was certainly a paltry enterprise for two grown men; but my own +tale, as it was to be represented in a court by Symon Fraser, appeared a +fair second in every possible point of view of sordidness and +cowardice.</p> + +<p>The voices of two of Prestongrange's liveried men upon his doorstep +recalled me to myself.</p> + +<p>"Ha'e," said the one, "this billet as fast as ye can link to the +captain."</p> + +<p>"Is that for the cateran back again?" asked the other.</p> + +<p>"It would seem sae," returned the first. "Him and Symon are seeking +him."</p> + +<p>"I think Prestongrange is gane gyte," says the second. "He'll have James +More in bed with him next."</p> + +<p>"Weel, it's neither your affair nor mine's," says the first.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a>[pg +73]</span>And they parted, the one upon his errand, and the other back into +the house.</p> + +<p>This looked as ill as possible. I was scarce gone and they were sending +already for James More, to whom I thought Mr. Symon must have pointed when +he spoke of men in prison and ready to redeem their lives by all +extremities. My scalp curdled among my hair, and the next moment the blood +leaped in me to remember Catriona. Poor lass! her father stood to be hanged +for pretty indefensible misconduct. What was yet more unpalatable, it now +seemed he was prepared to save his four quarters by the worst of shame and +the most foul of cowardly murders--murder by the false oath; and to +complete our misfortunes, it seemed myself was picked out to be the +victim.</p> + +<p>I began to walk swiftly and at random, conscious only of a desire for +movement, air, and the open country.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>[pg 74]</span><hr +/> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>I MAKE A FAULT IN HONOR</h3> + + +<p>I came forth, I vow I know not how, on the <i>Lang Dykes</i>.<sup><a +href="#fn12" name="rfn12">[12]</a></sup> This is a rural road which runs on +the north side over against the city. Thence I could see the whole black +length of it tail down, from where the castle stands upon its crags above +the loch in a long line of spires and gable ends, and smoking chimneys, and +at the sight my heart swelled in my bosom. My youth, as I have told, was +already inured to dangers; but such danger as I had seen the face of but +that morning, in the midst of what they call the safety of a town, shook me +beyond experience. Peril of slavery, peril of shipwreck, peril of sword and +shot, I had stood all of these without discredit; but the peril there was +in the sharp voice and the fat face of Symon, properly Lord Lovat, daunted +me wholly.</p> + +<p>I sat by the lake side in a place where the rushes went down into the +water, and there steeped my wrists and laved my temples. If I could have +done so with any remains of self-esteem I would now have fled from my +foolhardy enterprise. But (call it courage or <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>[pg 75]</span>cowardice, and I believe it +was both the one and the other) I decided I was ventured out beyond the +possibility of a retreat. I had outfaced these men, I would continue to +outface them; come what might, I would stand by the word spoken.</p> + +<p>The sense of my own constancy somewhat uplifted my spirits, but not +much. At the best of it there was an icy place about my heart, and life +seemed a black business to be at all engaged in. For two souls in +particular my pity flowed. The one was myself, to be so friendless and lost +among dangers. The other was the girl, the daughter of James More. I had +seen but little of her; yet my view was taken and my judgment made. I +thought her a lass of a clean honour, like a man's; I thought her one to +die of a disgrace; and now I believed her father to be at that moment +bargaining his vile life for mine. It made a bond in my thoughts betwixt +the girl and me. I had seen her before only as a wayside appearance, though +one that pleased me strangely; I saw her now in a sudden nearness of +relation, as the daughter of my blood foe, and I might say, my murderer. I +reflected it was hard I should be so plagued and persecuted all my days for +other folk's affairs, and have no manner of pleasure myself. I got meals +and a bed to sleep in when my concerns would suffer it; beyond that my +wealth was of no help to me. If I was to hang, my days were like to be +short; if I was not to hang but to escape out of this trouble, they <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>[pg 76]</span>might yet +seem long to me ere I was done with them. Of a sudden her face appeared in +my memory, the way I had first seen it, with the parted lips; at that, +weakness came in my bosom and strength into my legs; and I set resolutely +forward on the way to Dean. If I was to hang to-morrow, and it was sure +enough I might very likely sleep that night in a dungeon, I determined I +should hear and speak once more with Catriona.</p> + +<p>The exercise of walking and the thought of my destination braced me yet +more, so that I began to pluck up a kind of spirit. In the village of Dean, +where it sits in the bottom of a glen beside the river, I inquired my way +of a miller's man, who sent me up the hill upon the farther side by a plain +path, and so to a decent-like small house in a garden of lawns and +apple-trees. My heart beat high as I stepped inside the garden hedge, but +it fell low indeed when I came face to face with a grim and fierce old +lady, walking there in a white mutch with a man's hat strapped upon the top +of it.</p> + +<p>"What do ye come seeking here?" she asked.</p> + +<p>I told her I was after Miss Drummond.</p> + +<p>"And what may be your business with Miss Drummond?" says she.</p> + +<p>I told her I had met her on Saturday last, had been so fortunate as to +render her a trifling service, and was come now on the young lady's +invitation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, so you're Saxpence!" she cried, with a very sneering manner. "A +braw gift, a bonny gentleman. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" +id="Page_77"></a>[pg 77]</span>And hae ye ony ither name and designation, +or were ye bapteesed Saxpence?" she asked.</p> + +<p>I told my name.</p> + +<p>"Preserve me!" she cried. "Has Ebenezer gotten a son?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," said I. "I am a son of Alexander's. It's I that am the +Laird of Shaws."</p> + +<p>"Ye'll find your work cut out for ye to establish that," quoth she.</p> + +<p>"I perceive you know my uncle," said I; "and I daresay you may be the +better pleased to hear that business is arranged."</p> + +<p>"And what brings ye here after Miss Drummond?" she pursued.</p> + +<p>"I'm come after my saxpence, mem," said I. "It's to be thought, being my +uncle's nephew, I would be found a careful lad."</p> + +<p>"So ye have a spark of sleeness in ye," observed the old lady, with some +approval. "I thought ye had just been a cuif--you and your saxpence, and +your <i>lucky day</i> and your <i>sake of Balwhidder</i>"--from which I was +gratified to learn that Catriona had not forgotten some of our talk. "But +all this is by the purpose," she resumed. "Am I to understand that ye come +here keeping company?"</p> + +<p>"This is surely rather an early question," said I. "The maid is young, +so am I, worse fortune. I have but seen her the once. I'll not deny," I +added, making <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>[pg +78]</span>up my mind to try her with some frankness, "I'll not deny but she +has run in my head a good deal since I met in with her. That is one thing; +but it would be quite another, and I think I would look very like a fool, +to commit myself."</p> + +<p>"You can speak out of your mouth, I see," said the old lady. "Praise +God, and so can I! I was fool enough to take charge of this rogue's +daughter: a fine charge I have gotten; but it's mine, and I'll carry it the +way I want to. Do ye mean to tell me, Mr. Balfour of Shaws, that you would +marry James More's daughter, and him hanged? Well, then, where there's no +possible marriage there shall be no manner of carryings on, and take that +for said. Lasses are bruckle things," she added, with a nod; "and though ye +would never think it by my wrunkled chafts, I was a lassie mysel', and a +bonny one."</p> + +<p>"Lady Allardyce," said I, "for that I suppose to be your name, you seem +to do the two sides of the talking, which is a very poor manner to come to +an agreement. You give me rather a home thrust when you ask if I would +marry, at the gallows' foot, a young lady whom I have seen but the once. I +have told you already I would never be so untenty as to commit myself. And +yet I'll go some way with you. If I continue to like the lass as well as I +have reason to expect, it will be something more than her father, or the +gallows either, that keeps the two of us apart. As for my family, I found +it by <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a>[pg +79]</span>the wayside like a lost bawbee! I owe less than nothing to my +uncle; and if ever I marry, it will be to please one person: that's +myself."</p> + +<p>"I have heard this kind of talk before ye were born," said Mrs. Ogilvy, +"which is perhaps the reason that I think of it so little. There's much to +be considered. This James More is a kinsman of mine, to my shame be it +spoken. But the better the family, the mair men hanged or heided, that's +always been poor Scotland's story. And if it was just the hanging! For my +part, I think I would be best pleased with James upon the gallows, which +would be at least an end to him. Catrine's a good lass enough, and a +good-hearted, and lets herself be deaved all day with a runt of an auld +wife like me. But, ye see, there's the weak bit. She's daft about that +long, false, fleeching beggar of a father of hers, and red-mad about the +Gregara, and proscribed names, and King James, and a wheen blethers. And +you might think ye could guide her, ye would find yourself sore mista'en. +Ye say ye've seen her but the once..."</p> + +<p>"Spoke with her but the once, I should have said," I interrupted. "I saw +her again this morning from a window at Prestongrange's."</p> + +<p>This I daresay I put in because it sounded well; but I was properly paid +for my ostentation on the return.</p> + +<p>"What's this of it?" cries the old lady, with a sudden <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a>[pg 80]</span>pucker of +her face. "I think it was at the Advocate's door-cheek that ye met her +first."</p> + +<p>I told her that was so.</p> + +<p>"H'm," she said; and then suddenly, upon rather a scolding tone, "I have +your bare word for it," she cries, "as to who and what you are. By your way +of it, you're Balfour of the Shaws; but for what I ken you may be Balfour +of the Deevil's oxter. It's possible ye may come here for what ye say, and +it's equally possible ye may come here for deil care what! I'm good enough +whig to sit quiet, and to have keepit all my men-folk's heads upon their +shoulders. But I'm not just a good enough whig to be made a fool of +neither. And I tell you fairly, there's too much Advocate's door and +Advocate's window here for a man that comes taigling after a Macgregor's +daughter. Ye can tell that to the Advocate that sent ye, with my fond love. +And I kiss my loof to ye, Mr. Balfour," says she, suiting the action to the +word, "and a braw journey to ye back to where ye cam frae."</p> + +<p>"If you think me a spy," I broke out, and speech stuck in my throat. I +stood and looked murder at the old lady for a space, then bowed and turned +away.</p> + +<p>"Here! Hoots! The callant's in a creel!" she cried. "Think ye a spy? +what else would I think ye--me that kens naething by ye? But I see that I +was wrong; and as I cannot fight, I'll have to apologise. A bonny figure I +would be with a broadsword. Ay! <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" +id="Page_81"></a>[pg 81]</span>ay!" she went on, "you're none such a bad +lad in your way; I think ye'll have some redeeming vices. But, oh, Davit +Balfour, ye're damned countryfeed. Ye'll have to win over that, lad; ye'll +have to soople your back-bone, and think a wee pickle less of your dainty +self; and ye'll have to try to find out that women-folk are nae grenadiers. +But that can never be. To your last day you'll ken no more of women-folk +than what I do of sow-gelding."</p> + +<p>I had never been used with such expressions from a lady's tongue, the +only two ladies I had known, Mrs. Campbell and my mother, being most devout +and most particular women; and I suppose my amazement must have been +depicted in my countenance, for Mrs. Ogilvy burst forth suddenly in a fit +of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Keep me!" she cried, struggling with her mirth, "you have the finest +timber face--and you to marry the daughter of a Hieland cateran! Davie, my +dear, I think we'll have to make a match of it--if it was just to see the +weans. And now," she went on, "there's no manner of service in your +daidling here, for the young woman is from home, and it's my fear that the +old woman is no suitable companion for your father's son. Forbye that I +have nobody but myself to look after my reputation, and have been long +enough alone with a sedooctive youth. And come back another day for your +saxpence!" she cried after me as I left.</p> + +<p>My skirmish with this disconcerting lady gave my <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>[pg 82]</span>thoughts a +boldness they had otherwise wanted. For two days the image of Catriona had +mixed in all my meditations; she made their background, so that I scarce +enjoyed my own company without a glint of her in a corner of my mind. But +now she came immediately near; I seemed to touch her, whom I had never +touched but the once; I let myself flow out to her in a happy weakness, and +looking all about, and before and behind, saw the world like an undesirable +desert, where men go as soldiers on a march, following their duty with what +constancy they have, and Catriona alone there to offer me some pleasure of +my days; I wondered at myself that I could dwell on such considerations in +that time of my peril and disgrace; and when I remembered my youth I was +ashamed. I had my studies to complete; I had to be called into some useful +business; I had yet to take my part of service in a place where all must +serve; I had yet to learn, and know, and prove myself a man; and I had so +much sense as blush that I should be already tempted with these further-on +and holier delights and duties. My education spoke home to me sharply; I +was never brought up on sugar biscuits, but on the hard food of the truth. +I knew that he was quite unfit to be a husband who was not prepared to be a +father also; and for a boy like me to play the father was a mere +derision.</p> + +<p>When I was in the midst of these thoughts and about <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>[pg 83]</span>half-way +back to town I saw a figure coming to meet me, and the trouble of my heart +was heightened. It seemed I had everything in the world to say to her, but +nothing to say first; and remembering how tongue-tied I had been that +morning at the Advocate's, I made sure that I would find myself struck +dumb. But when she came up my fears fled away; not even the consciousness +of what I had been privately thinking disconcerted me the least; and I +found I could talk with her as easily and rationally as I might with +Alan.</p> + +<p>"O!" she cried, "you have been seeking your sixpence: did you get +it?"</p> + +<p>I told her no; but now I had met with her my walk was not in vain. +"Though I have seen you to-day already," said I, and told her where and +when.</p> + +<p>"I did not see you," she said. "My eyes are big, but there are better +than mine at seeing far. Only I heard singing in the house."</p> + +<p>"That was Miss Grant," said I, "the eldest and the bonniest."</p> + +<p>"They say they are all beautiful," said she.</p> + +<p>"They think the same of you, Miss Drummond," I replied, "and were all +crowding to the window to observe you."</p> + +<p>"It is a pity about my being so blind," said she, "or I might have seen +them too. And you were in the house? You must have been having the fine +time with the fine music and the pretty ladies."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a>[pg +84]</span>"There is just where you are wrong," said I; "for I was as +uncouth as a sea-fish upon the brae of a mountain. The truth is that I am +better fitted to go about with rudas men than pretty ladies."</p> + +<p>"Well, I would think so too, at all events!" said she, at which we both +of us laughed.</p> + +<p>"It is a strange thing, now," said I. "I am not the least afraid with +you, yet I could have run from the Miss Grants. And I was afraid of your +cousin too."</p> + +<p>"O, I think any man will be afraid of her," she cried. "My father is +afraid of her himself."</p> + +<p>The name of her father brought me to a stop. I looked at her as she +walked by my side; I recalled the man, and the little I knew and the much I +guessed of him; and comparing the one with the other, felt like a traitor +to be silent.</p> + +<p>"Speaking of which," said I, "I met your father no later than this +morning."</p> + +<p>"Did you?" she cried, with a voice of joy that seemed to mock at me. +"You saw James More? You will have spoken with him, then?"</p> + +<p>"I did even that," said I.</p> + +<p>Then I think things went the worst way for me that was humanly possible. +She gave me a look of mere gratitude. "Ah, thank you for that!" says +she.</p> + +<p>"You thank me for very little," said I, and then stopped. But it seemed +when I was holding back so <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" +id="Page_85"></a>[pg 85]</span>much, something at least had to come out. "I +spoke rather ill to him," said I; "I did not like him very much; I spoke +him rather ill, and he was angry."</p> + +<p>"I think you had little to do then, and less to tell it to his +daughter!" she cried out. "But those that do not love and cherish him I +will not know."</p> + +<p>"I will take the freedom of a word yet," said I, beginning to tremble. +"Perhaps neither your father nor I are in the best of good spirits at +Prestongrange's. I daresay we both have anxious business there, for it's a +dangerous house. I was sorry for him too, and spoke to him the first, if I +could but have spoken the wiser. And for one thing, in my opinion, you will +soon find that his affairs are mending."</p> + +<p>"It will not be through your friendship, I am thinking," said she; "and +he is much made up to you for your sorrow."</p> + +<p>"Miss Drummond," cried I, "I am alone in this world...."</p> + +<p>"And I am not wondering at that," said she.</p> + +<p>"O, let me speak!" said I. "I will speak but the once, and then leave +you, if you will, for ever. I came this day in the hopes of a kind word +that I am sore in want of. I know that what I said must hurt you, and I +knew it then. It would have been easy to have spoken smooth, easy to lie to +you; can you not think how I was tempted to the same? Cannot you see the +truth of my heart shine out?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>[pg +86]</span>"I think here is a great deal of work, Mr. Balfour," said she. "I +think we will have met but the once, and will can part like +gentle-folk."</p> + +<p>"O, let me have one to believe in me!" I pleaded, "I cannae bear it +else. The whole world is clanned against me. How am I to go through with my +dreadful fate? If there's to be none to believe in me I cannot do it. The +man must just die, for I cannot do it."</p> + +<p>She had still looked straight in front of her, head in air; but at my +words or the tone of my voice she came to a stop. "What is this you say?" +she asked. "What are you talking of?"</p> + +<p>"It is my testimony which may save an innocent life," said I, "and they +will not suffer me to bear it. What would you do yourself? You know what +this is, whose father lies in danger. Would you desert the poor soul? They +have tried all ways with me. They have sought to bribe me; they offered me +hills and valleys. And to-day that sleuth-hound told me how I stood, and to +what a length he would go to butcher and disgrace me. I am to be brought in +a party to the murder; I am to have held Glenure in talk for money and old +clothes; I am to be killed and shamed. If this is the way I am to fall, and +me scarce a man--if this is the story to be told of me in all Scotland--if +you are to believe it too, and my name is to be nothing but a +by-word--Catriona, how can I go through with it? <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>[pg 87]</span>The thing's not possible; +it's more than a man has in his heart."</p> + +<p>I poured my words out in a whirl, one upon the other; and when I stopped +I found her gazing on me with a startled face.</p> + +<p>"Glenure! It is the Appin murder," she said softly, but with a very deep +surprise.</p> + +<p>I had turned back to bear her company, and we were now come near the +head of the brae above Dean village. At this word I stepped in front of her +like one suddenly distracted.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake!" I cried, "for God's sake, what is this that I have +done?" and carried my fists to my temples. "What made me do it? Sure, I am +bewitched to say these things!"</p> + +<p>"In the name of heaven, what ails you now?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I gave my honour," I groaned, "I gave my honour and now I have broke +it. O, Catriona!"</p> + +<p>"I am asking you what it is," she said; "was it these things you should +not have spoken? And do you think <i>I</i> have no honour, then? or that I +am one that would betray a friend? I hold up my right hand to you and +swear."</p> + +<p>"O, I knew you would be true!" said I. "It's me--it's here. I that stood +but this morning and out-faced them, that risked rather to die disgraced +upon the gallows than do wrong--and a few hours after I throw <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a>[pg 88]</span>my honour +away by the roadside in common talk! 'There is one thing clear upon our +interview,' says he, 'that I can rely on your pledged word.' Where is my +word now? Who could believe me now? <i>You</i> could not believe me. I am +clean fallen down; I had best die!" All this I said with a weeping voice, +but I had no tears in my body.</p> + +<p>"My heart is sore for you," said she, "but be sure you are too nice. I +would not believe you, do you say? I would trust you with anything. And +these men? I would not be thinking of them! Men who go about to entrap and +to destroy you! Fy! this is no time to crouch. Look up! Do you not think I +will be admiring you like a great hero of the good--and you a boy not much +older than myself? And because you said a word too much in a friend's ear, +that would die ere she betrayed you--to make such a matter! It is one thing +that we must both forget."</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said I, looking at her, hang-dog, "is this true of it? Would +ye trust me yet?"</p> + +<p>"Will you not believe the tears upon my face?" she cried. "It is the +world I am thinking of you, Mr. David Balfour. Let them hang you; I will +never forget, I will grow old and still remember you. I think it is great +to die so; I will envy you that gallows."</p> + +<p>"And maybe all this while I am but a child frighted with bogles," said +I. "Maybe they but make a mock of me."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>[pg +89]</span>"It is what I must know," she said. "I must hear the whole. The +harm is done at all events, and I must hear the whole."</p> + +<p>I had sat down on the wayside, where she took a place beside me, and I +told her all that matter much as I have written it, my thoughts about her +father's dealing being alone omitted.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, when I had finished, "you are a hero, surely, and I +never would have thought that same! And I think you are in peril, too. O, +Symon Fraser! to think upon that man! For his life and the dirty money, to +be dealing in such traffic!" And just then she called out aloud with a +queer word that was common with her, and belongs, I believe, to her own +language. "My torture!" says she, "look at the sun!"</p> + +<p>Indeed, it was already dipping towards the mountains.</p> + +<p>She bid me come again soon, gave me her hand, and left me in a turmoil +of glad spirits. I delayed to go home to my lodging, for I had a terror of +immediate arrest; but got some supper at a change house, and the better +part of that night walked by myself in the barley-fields, and had such a +sense of Catriona's presence that I seemed to bear her in my arms.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>[pg 90]</span><hr +/> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE BRAVO</h3> + + +<p>The next day, August 29th, I kept my appointment at the Advocate's in a +coat that I had made to my own measure, and was but newly ready.</p> + +<p>"Aha," says Prestongrange, "you are very fine to-day; my misses are to +have a fine cavalier. Come, I take that kind of you. I take that kind of +you, Mr. David. O, we shall do very well yet, and I believe your troubles +are nearly at an end."</p> + +<p>"You have news for me?" cried I.</p> + +<p>"Beyond anticipation," he replied. "Your testimony is after all to be +received; and you may go, if you will, in my company to the trial, which is +to be held at Inverary, Thursday, 21st <i>proximo</i>."</p> + +<p>I was too much amazed to find words.</p> + +<p>"In the meanwhile," he continued, "though I will not ask you to renew +your pledge, I must caution you strictly to be reticent. To-morrow your +precognition must be taken; and outside of that, do you know, I think least +said will be soonest mended."</p> + + + + +<a name="balfour003"></a> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour003.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: TIT YOU EFFER HEAR WHERE ALAN GRIGOR FAND +THE TANGS? SAID HE" src="images/balfour003sm.jpg" height="571" width="382" /></a> +<br />TIT YOU EFFER HEAR +WHERE ALAN GRIGOR FAND THE TANGS? SAID HE + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<p>"I shall try to go discreetly," said I. "I believe it is yourself that I +must thank for this crowning mercy, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" +id="Page_91"></a>[pg 91]</span>and I do thank you gratefully. After +yesterday, my lord, this is like the doors of Heaven. I cannot find it in +my heart to get the thing believed."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you must try and manage, you must try and manage to believe +it," says he, soothing-like, "and I am very glad to hear your +acknowledgment of obligation, for I think you may be able to repay me very +shortly"--he coughed--"or even now. The matter is much changed. Your +testimony, which I shall not trouble you for to-day, will doubtless alter +the complexion of the case for all concerned, and this makes it less +delicate for me to enter with you on a side issue."</p> + +<p>"My lord," I interrupted, "excuse me for interrupting you, but how has +this been brought about? The obstacles you told me of on Saturday appeared +even to me to be quite insurmountable; how has it been contrived?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Mr. David," said he, "it would never do for me to divulge (even +to you, as you say) the councils of the Government; and you must content +yourself, if you please, with the gross fact."</p> + +<p>He smiled upon me like a father as he spoke, playing the while with a +new pen; methought it was impossible there could be any shadow of deception +in the man: yet when he drew to him a sheet of paper, dipped his pen among +the ink, and began again to address me, I was somehow not so certain, and +fell instinctively into an attitude of guard.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>[pg +92]</span>"There is a point I wish to touch upon," he began. "I purposely +left it before upon one side, which need be now no longer necessary. This +is not, of course, a part of your examination, which is to follow by +another hand; this is a private interest of my own. You say you encountered +Breck upon the hill?"</p> + +<p>"I did, my lord," said I.</p> + +<p>"This was immediately after the murder?"</p> + +<p>"It was."</p> + +<p>"Did you speak to him?"</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"You had known him before, I think?" says my lord, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"I cannot guess your reason for so thinking, my lord," I replied, "but +such is the fact."</p> + +<p>"And when did you part with him again?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I reserve my answer," said I. "The question will be put to me at the +assize."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Balfour," said he, "will you not understand that all this is +without prejudice to yourself? I have promised you life and honour; and, +believe me, I can keep my word. You are therefore clear of all anxiety. +Alan, it appears, you suppose you can protect; and you talk to me of your +gratitude, which I think (if you push me) is not ill-deserved. There are a +great many different considerations all pointing the same way; and I will +never be persuaded that you could not help us (if you chose) to put salt on +Alan's tail."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a>[pg +93]</span>"My lord," said I, "I give you my word I do not so much as guess +where Alan is."</p> + +<p>He paused a breath. "Nor how he might be found?" he asked.</p> + +<p>I sat before him like a log of wood.</p> + +<p>"And so much for your gratitude, Mr. David!" he observed. Again there +was a piece of silence. "Well," said he, rising, "I am not fortunate, and +we are a couple at cross purposes. Let us speak of it no more; you will +receive notice when, where, and by whom we are to take your precognition. +And in the meantime, my misses must be waiting you. They will never forgive +me if I detain their cavalier."</p> + +<p>Into the hands of these graces I was accordingly offered up, and found +them dressed beyond what I had thought possible, and looking fair as a +posy.</p> + +<p>As we went forth from the doors a small circumstance occurred which came +afterwards to look extremely big. I heard a whistle sound loud and brief +like a signal, and looking all about, spied for one moment the red head of +Neil of the Tom, the son of Duncan. The next moment he was gone again, nor +could I see so much as the skirt-tail of Catriona, upon whom I naturally +supposed him to be then attending.</p> + +<p>My three keepers led me out by Bristo and the Bruntsfield Links; whence +a path carried us to Hope Park, a beautiful pleasance, laid with +gravel-walks, furnished with seats and summer-sheds, and warded by a +keeper.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>[pg +94]</span>The way there was a little longsome; the two younger misses +affected an air of genteel weariness that damped me cruelly, the eldest +considered me with something that at times appeared like mirth; and though +I thought I did myself more justice than the day before, it was not without +some effort. Upon our reaching the park I was launched on a bevy of eight +or ten young gentlemen (some of them cockaded officers, the rest chiefly +advocates) who crowded to attend upon these beauties; and though I was +presented to all of them in very good words, it seemed I was by all +immediately forgotten. Young folk in a company are like to savage animals: +they fall upon or scorn a stranger without civility, or I may say, +humanity; and I am sure, if I had been among baboons, they would have shown +me quite as much of both. Some of the advocates set up to be wits, and some +of the soldiers to be rattles; and I could not tell which of these extremes +annoyed me most. All had a manner of handling their swords and coat-skirts, +for the which (in mere black envy) I could have kicked them from that park. +I daresay, upon their side, they grudged me extremely the fine company in +which I had arrived; and altogether I had soon fallen behind, and stepped +stiffly in the rear of all that merriment with my own thoughts.</p> + +<p>From these I was recalled by one of the officers, Lieutenant Hector +Duncansby, a gawky, leering, Highland boy, asking if my name was not +"Palfour."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>[pg 95]</span>I +told him it was, not very kindly, for his manner was scant civil.</p> + +<p>"Ha, Palfour," says he, and then, repeating it, "Palfour, Palfour!"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you do not like my name, sir," says I, annoyed with myself +to be annoyed with such a rustical fellow.</p> + +<p>"No," says he, "but I wass thinking."</p> + +<p>"I would not advise you to make a practice of that, sir," says I. "I +feel sure you would not find it to agree with you."</p> + +<p>"Tit you effer hear where Alan Grigor fand the tangs?" said he.</p> + +<p>I asked him what he could possibly mean, and he answered, with a +heckling laugh, that he thought I must have found the poker in the same +place and swallowed it.</p> + +<p>There could be no mistake about this, and my cheek burned.</p> + +<p>"Before I went about to put affronts on gentlemen," said I, "I think I +would learn the English language first."</p> + +<p>He took me by the sleeve with a nod and a wink, and led me quietly +outside Hope Park. But no sooner were we beyond the view of the +promenaders, than the fashion of his countenance changed. "You tam lowland +scoon'rel!" cries he, and hit me a buffet on the jaw with his closed +fist.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>[pg 96]</span>I +paid him as good or better on the return; whereupon he stepped a little +back and took off his hat to me decorously.</p> + +<p>"Enough plows I think," says he. "I will be the offended shentleman, for +who effer heard of such suffeeciency as tell a shentlemans that is the +king's officer he cannae speak Cot's English? We have swords at our +hurdies, and here is the King's Park at hand. Will ye walk first, or let me +show ye the way?"</p> + +<p>I returned his bow, told him to go first, and followed him. As he went I +heard him grumble to himself about <i>Cot's English</i> and the <i>King's +coat</i>, so that I might have supposed him to be seriously offended. But +his manner at the beginning of our interview was there to belie him. It was +manifest he had come prepared to fasten a quarrel on me, right or wrong; +manifest that I was taken in a fresh contrivance of my enemies; and to me +(conscious as I was of my deficiencies) manifest enough that I should be +the one to fall in our encounter.</p> + +<p>As we came into that rough rocky desert of the King's Park I was tempted +half-a-dozen times to take to my heels and run for it, so loath was I to +show my ignorance in fencing, and so much averse to die or even to be +wounded. But I considered if their malice went as far as this, it would +likely stick at nothing; and that to fall by the sword, however +ungracefully, was still an improvement on the gallows. I considered besides +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>[pg 97]</span>that +by the unguarded pertness of my words and the quickness of my blow I had +put myself quite out of court; and that even if I ran, my adversary would, +probably pursue and catch me, which would add disgrace to my misfortune. So +that, taking all in all, I continued marching behind him, much as a man +follows the hangman, and certainly with no more hope.</p> + +<p>We went about the end of the long craigs, and came into the Hunter's +Bog. Here, on a piece of fair turf, my adversary drew. There was nobody +there to see us but some birds; and no resource for me but to follow his +example, and stand on guard with the best face I could display. It seems it +was not good enough for Mr. Duncansby, who spied some flaw in my +manoeuvres, paused, looked upon me sharply, and came off and on, and +menaced me with his blade in the air. As I had seen no such proceedings +from Alan, and was besides a good deal affected with the proximity of +death, I grew quite bewildered, stood helpless, and could have longed to +run away.</p> + +<p>"Fat, deil, ails her?" cries the lieutenant.</p> + +<p>And suddenly engaging, he twitched the sword out of my grasp and sent it +flying far among the rushes.</p> + +<p>Twice was this manoeuvre repeated; and the third time when I brought +back my humiliated weapon, I found he had returned his own to the scabbard, +and stood awaiting me with a face of some anger, and his hands clasped +under his skirt.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>[pg +98]</span>"Pe tamned if I touch you!" he cried, and asked me bitterly what +right I had to stand up before "shentlemans" when I did not know the back +of a sword from the front of it.</p> + +<p>I answered that was the fault of my upbringing; and would he do me the +justice to say I had given him all the satisfaction it was unfortunately in +my power to offer, and had stood up like a man?</p> + +<p>"And that is the truth," said he. "I am fery prave myself, and pold as a +lions. But to stand up there--and you ken naething of fence!--the way that +you did, I declare it was peyond me. And I am sorry for the plow; though I +declare I pelief your own was the elder brother, and my held still sings +with it. And I declare if I had kent what way it wass, I would not put a +hand to such a piece of pusiness."</p> + +<p>"That is handsomely said," I replied, "and I am sure you will not stand +up a second time to be the actor for my private enemies."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no, Palfour," said he; "and I think I was used extremely +suffeeciently myself to be set up to fecht with an auld wife, or all the +same as a bairn whateffer! And I will tell the Master so, and fecht him, by +Cot, himself!"</p> + +<p>"And if you knew the nature of Mr. Symon's quarrel with me," said I, +"you would be yet the more affronted to be mingled up with such +affairs."</p> + +<p>He swore he could well believe it; that all the Lovats <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>[pg 99]</span>were made +of the same meal and the devil was the miller that ground that; then +suddenly shaking me by the hand, he vowed I was a pretty enough fellow +after all, that it was a thousand pities I had been neglected, and that if +he could find the time, he would give an eye himself to have me +educated.</p> + +<p>"You can do me a better service than even what you propose," said I; and +when he had asked its nature--"Come with me to the house of one of my +enemies, and testify how I have carried myself this day," I told him. "That +will be the true service. For though he has sent me a gallant adversary for +the first, the thought in Mr. Symon's mind is merely murder. There will be +a second and then a third; and by what you have seen of my cleverness with +the cold steel, you can judge for yourself what is like to be upshot."</p> + +<p>"And I would not like it myself, if I was no more of a man than what you +wass!" he cried. "But I will do you right, Palfour. Lead on!"</p> + +<p>If I had walked slowly on the way into that accursed park my heels were +light enough on the way out. They kept time to a very good old air, that is +as ancient as the Bible, and the words of it are: "<i>Surely the bitterness +of death is passed</i>." I mind that I was extremely thirsty, and had a +drink at Saint Margaret's well on the road down, and the sweetness of that +water passed belief. We went through the sanctuary, up the Canongate, in by +the Netherbow, and straight to Prestongrange's <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a>[pg 100]</span>door, talking as we came +and arranging the details of our affair. The footman owned his master was +at home, but declared him engaged with other gentlemen on very private +business, and his door forbidden.</p> + +<p>"My business is but for three minutes, and it cannot wait," said I. "You +may say it is by no means private, and I shall be even glad to have some +witnesses."</p> + +<p>As the man departed unwillingly enough upon this errand, we made so bold +as to follow him to the antechamber, whence I could hear for a while the +murmuring of several voices in the room within. The truth is, they were +three at the one table--Prestongrange, Symon Fraser, and Mr. Erskine, +Sheriff of Perth; and as they were met in consultation on the very business +of the Appin murder, they were a little disturbed at my appearance, but +decided to receive me.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Mr. Balfour, and what brings you here again? and who is +this you bring with you?" says Prestongrange.</p> + +<p>As for Fraser, he looked before him on the table.</p> + +<p>"He is here to bear a little testimony in my favour, my lord, which I +think it very needful you should hear," said I, and turned to +Duncansby.</p> + +<p>"I have only to say this," said the lieutenant, "that I stood up this +day with Palfour in the Hunter's Pog, which I am now fery sorry for, and he +behaved himself as pretty as a shentlemans could ask it. And I have creat +respects for Palfour," he added.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>[pg +101]</span>"I thank you for your honest expressions," said I.</p> + +<p>Whereupon Duncansby made his bow to the company, and left the chamber, +as we had agreed upon before.</p> + +<p>"What have I to do with this?" says Prestongrange.</p> + +<p>"I will tell your lordship in two words," said I. "I have brought this +gentleman, a King's officer, to do me so much justice. Now I think my +character is covered, and until a certain date, which your lordship can +very well supply, it will be quite in vain to despatch against me any more +officers. I will not consent to fight my way through the garrison of the +castle."</p> + +<p>The veins swelled on Prestongrange's brow, and he regarded me with +fury.</p> + +<p>"I think the devil uncoupled this dog of a lad between my legs!" he +cried; and then, turning fiercely on his neighbour, "This is some of your +work, Symon," he said. "I spy your hand in the business, and, let me tell +you, I resent it. It is disloyal, when we are agreed upon one expedient, to +follow another in the dark. You are disloyal to me. What! you let me send +this lad to the place with my very daughters! And because I let drop a word +to you ... Fy, sir, keep your dishonours to yourself!"</p> + +<p>Symon was deadly pale. "I will be a kick-ball between you and the Duke +no longer," he exclaimed. "Either come to an agreement, or come to a +differ, and have it out among yourselves. But I will no longer fetch and +carry, and get your contrary instructions, and <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>[pg 102]</span>be blamed by both. For if +I were to tell you what I think of all your Hanover business it would make +your head sing."</p> + +<p>But Sheriff Erskine had preserved his temper, and now intervened +smoothly. "And in the meantime," says he, "I think we should tell Mr. +Balfour that his character for valour is quite established. He may sleep in +peace. Until the date he was so good as to refer to it shall be put to the +proof no more."</p> + +<p>His coolness brought the others to their prudence; and they made haste, +with a somewhat distracted civility, to pack me from the house.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a>[pg +103]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE HEATHER ON FIRE</h3> + + +<p>When I left Prestongrange that afternoon I was for the first time angry. +The Advocate had made a mock of me. He had pretended my testimony was to be +received and myself respected; and in that very hour, not only was Symon +practising against my life by the hands of the Highland soldier, but (as +appeared from his own language) Prestongrange himself had some design in +operation. I counted my enemies: Prestongrange with all the King's +authority behind him; and the Duke with the power of the West Highlands; +and the Lovat interest by their side to help them with so great a force in +the north, and the whole clan of old Jacobite spies and traffickers. And +when I remembered James More, and the red head of Neil the son of Duncan, I +thought there was perhaps a fourth in the confederacy, and what remained of +Rob Roy's old desperate sept of caterans would be banded against me with +the others. One thing was requisite, some strong friend or wise adviser. +The country must be full of such, both able and eager to support me, or +Lovat and the Duke <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" +id="Page_104"></a>[pg 104]</span>and Prestongrange had not been nosing for +expedients; and it made me rage to think that I might brush against my +champions in the street and be no wiser.</p> + +<p>And just then (like an answer) a gentleman brushed against me going by, +gave me a meaning look, and turned into a close. I knew him with the tail +of my eye--it was Stewart the Writer; and, blessing my good fortune, turned +in to follow him. As soon as I had entered the close I saw him standing in +the mouth of a stair, where he made me a signal and immediately vanished. +Seven storeys up, there he was again in a house door, the which he locked +behind us after we had entered. The house was quite dismantled, with not a +stick of furniture; indeed, it was one of which Stewart had the letting in +his hands.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to sit upon the floor," said he; "but we're safe here for +the time being, and I've been wearying to see ye, Mr. Balfour."</p> + +<p>"How's it with Alan?'" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Brawly," said he. "Andie picks him up at Gillane Sands to-morrow, +Wednesday. He was keen to say good-by to ye, but the way that things were +going, I was feared the pair of ye was maybe best apart. And that brings me +to the essential: how does your business speed?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said I, "I was told only this morning that my testimony was +accepted, and I was to travel to Inverary with the Advocate, no less."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a>[pg +105]</span>"Hout awa!" cried Stewart. "I'll never believe that."</p> + +<p>"I have maybe a suspicion of my own," says I, "but I would like fine to +hear your reasons."</p> + +<p>"Well, I tell ye fairly, I'm horn-mad," cries Stewart. "If my one hand +could pull their Government down I would pluck it like a rotten apple. I'm +doer for Appin and for James of the Glens; and, of course, it's my duty to +defend my kinsman for his life. Hear how it goes with me, and I'll leave +the judgment of it to yourself. The first thing they have to do is to get +rid of Alan. They cannae bring in James as art and part until they've +brought in Alan first as principal; that's sound law: they could never put +the cart before the horse."</p> + +<p>"And how are they to bring in Alan till they can catch him?" says I.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but there is a way to evite that arrestment," said he. "Sound law, +too. It would be a bonny thing if, by the escape of one ill-doer another +was to go scatheless, and the remeid is to summon the principal and put him +to outlawry for the non-compearance. Now there's four places where a person +can be summoned: at his dwelling-house; at a place where he has resided +forty days; at the head burgh of the shire where he ordinarily resorts; or +lastly (if there be ground to think him forth of Scotland), <i>at the cross +of Edinburgh, and the pier and shore of Leith, for sixty days</i>. The +purpose of which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" +id="Page_106"></a>[pg 106]</span>last provision is evident upon its face: +being that outgoing ships may have time to carry news of the transaction, +and the summonsing be something other than a form. Now take the case of +Alan. He has no dwelling-house that ever I could hear of; I would be +obliged if anyone would show me where he has lived forty days together +since the '45; there is no shire where he resorts whether ordinarily or +extraordinarily; if he has a domicile at all, which I misdoubt, it must be +with his regiment in France; and if he is not yet forth of Scotland (as we +happen to know and they happen to guess) it must be evident to the most +dull it's what he's aiming for. Where, then, and what way should he be +summoned? I ask it at yourself, a layman."</p> + +<p>"You have given the very words," said I. "Here at the cross, and at the +pier and shore of Leith, for sixty days."</p> + +<p>"Ye're a sounder Scots lawyer than Prestongrange, then!" cries the +Writer. "He has had Alan summoned once; that was on the twenty-fifth, the +day that we first met. Once, and done with it. And where? Where, but at the +cross of Inverary, the head burgh of the Campbells. A word in your ear, Mr. +Balfour--they're not seeking Alan."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" I cried. "Not seeking him?"</p> + +<p>"By the best that I can make of it," said he. "Not wanting to find him, +in my poor thought. They think <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" +id="Page_107"></a>[pg 107]</span>perhaps he might set up a fair defence, +upon the back of which James, the man they're really after, might climb +out. This is not a case, ye see, it's a conspiracy."</p> + +<p>"Yet I can tell you Prestongrange asked after Alan keenly," said I; +"though, when I come to think of it, he was something of the easiest put +by."</p> + +<p>"See that!" says he. "But there! I may be right or wrong, that's +guesswork at the best, and let me get to my facts again. It comes to my +ears that James and the witnesses--the witnesses, Mr. Balfour!--lay in +close dungeons, and shackled forbye, in the military prison at Fort +William; none allowed in to them, nor they to write. The witnesses, Mr. +Balfour; heard ye ever the match of that? I assure ye, no old, crooked +Stewart of the gang ever outfaced the law more impudently. It's clean in +the two eyes of the Act of Parliament of 1700, anent wrongous imprisonment. +No sooner did I get the news than I petitioned the Lord Justice Clerk. I +have his word to-day. There's law for ye! here's justice!"</p> + +<p>He put a paper in my hand, that same mealy-mouthed, false-faced paper +that was printed since in the pamphlet "by a bystander," for behoof (as the +title says) of James's "poor widow and five children."</p> + +<p>"See," said Stewart, "he couldn't dare to refuse me access to my client, +so he <i>recommends the commanding officer to let me in</i>. +Recommends!--the Lord <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" +id="Page_108"></a>[pg 108]</span>Justice Clerk of Scotland recommends. Is +not the purpose of such language plain? They hope the officer may be so +dull, or so very much the reverse, as to refuse the recommendation. I would +have to make the journey back again betwixt here and Fort William. There +would follow a fresh delay till I got fresh authority, and they had +disavowed the officer--military man, notoriously ignorant of the law, and +that--I ken the cant of it. Then the journey a third time; and there we +should be on the immediate heels of the trial before I had received my +first instruction. Am I not right to call this a conspiracy?"</p> + +<p>"It will bear that colour," said I.</p> + +<p>"And I'll go on to prove it you outright," said he. "They have the right +to hold James in prison, yet they cannot deny me to visit him. They have no +right to hold the witnesses; but am I to get a sight of them, that should +be as free as the Lord Justice Clerk himself? See--read: <i>For the rest, +refuses to give any orders to keepers of prisons who are not accused as +having done anything contrary to the duties of their office</i>. Anything +contrary! Sirs! And the Act of seventeen hunner! Mr. Balfour, this makes my +heart to burst. The heather is on fire inside my wame."</p> + +<p>"And the plain English of that phrase," said I, "is that the witnesses +are still to lie in prison and you are not to see them?"</p> + +<p>"And I am not to see them until Inverary, when the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>[pg 109]</span>court +is set!" cries he, "and then to hear Prestongrange upon <i>the anxious +responsibilities of his office and the great facilities afforded the +defence!</i> But I'll begowk them there, Mr. David. I have a plan to waylay +the witnesses upon the road, and see if I cannae get a little harle of +justice out of the <i>military man notoriously ignorant of the law</i> that +shall command the party."</p> + +<p>It was actually so--it was actually on the wayside near Tynedrum, and by +the connivance of a soldier officer, that Mr. Stewart first saw the +witnesses upon the case.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing that would surprise me in this business," I +remarked.</p> + +<p>"I'll surprise you ere I'm done!" cries he. "Do ye see this?"--producing +a print still wet from the press. "This is the libel: see, there's +Prestongrange's name to the list of witnesses, and I find no word of any +Balfour. But here is not the question. Who do ye think paid for the +printing of this paper?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose it would likely be King George," said I.</p> + +<p>"But it happens it was me!" he cried. "Not but it was printed by and for +themselves, for the Grants and the Erskines, and yon thief of the black +midnight, Symon Fraser. But could <i>I</i> win to get a copy? No! I was to +go blindfold to my defence; I was to hear the charges for the first time in +court alongst the jury."</p> + +<p>"Is not this against the law?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I cannot say so much," he replied. "It was a <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>[pg 110]</span>favour so natural and so +constantly rendered (till this nonesuch business) that the law has never +looked to it. And now admire the hand of Providence! A stranger is in +Fleming's printing house, spies a proof on the floor, picks it up, and +carries it to me. Of all things, it was just this libel. Whereupon I had it +set again--printed at the expense of the defence: <i>sumptibus moesti +rei</i>; heard ever man the like of it?--and here it is for anybody, the +muckle secret out--all may see it now. But how do you think I would enjoy +this, that has the life of my kinsman on my conscience?"</p> + +<p>"Troth, I think you would enjoy it ill," said I.</p> + +<p>"And now you see how it is," he concluded, "and why, when you tell me +your evidence is to be let in, I laugh aloud in your face."</p> + +<p>It was now my turn. I laid before him in brief Mr. Symon's threats and +offers, and the whole incident of the bravo, with the subsequent scene at +Prestongrange's. Of my first talk, according to promise, I said nothing, +nor indeed was it necessary. All the time I was talking Stewart nodded his +head like a mechanical figure; and no sooner had my voice ceased, than he +opened his mouth and gave me his opinion in two words, dwelling strong on +both of them.</p> + +<p>"Disappear yourself," said he.</p> + +<p>"I do not take you," said I.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll carry you there," said he. "By my view of it you're to +disappear whatever. O, that's outside <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>[pg 111]</span>debate. The Advocate, who +is not without some spunks of a remainder decency, has wrung your life-safe +out of Symon and the Duke. He has refused to put you on your trial, and +refused to have you killed; and there is the clue to their ill words +together, for Symon and the Duke can keep faith with neither friend nor +enemy. Ye're not to be tried then, and ye're not to be murdered; but I'm in +bitter error if ye're not to be kidnapped and carried away like the Lady +Grange. Bet me what you please--there was their <i>expedient!</i>"</p> + +<p>"You make me think," said I, and told him of the whistle and the +red-headed retainer, Neil.</p> + +<p>"Wherever James More is there's one big rogue, never be deceived on +that," said he. "His father was none so ill a man, though a kenning on the +wrong side of the law, and no friend to my family, that I should waste my +breath to be defending him! But as for James he's a brock and a blagyard. I +like the appearing of this red-headed Neil as little as yourself. It looks +uncanny: fiegh! it smells bad. It was old Lovat that managed the Lady +Grange affair, if young Lovat is to handle yours, it'll be all in the +family. What's James More in prison for? The same offence: abduction. His +men have had practice in the business. He'll be to lend them to be Symon's +instruments; and the next thing we'll be hearing, James will have made his +peace, or else he'll have escaped; and you'll be in Benbecula or +Applecross."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>[pg +112]</span>"Ye make a strong case," I admitted.</p> + +<p>"And what I want," he resumed, "is that you should disappear yourself +ere they can get their hands upon ye. Lie quiet until just before the +trial, and spring upon them at the last of it when they'll be looking for +you least. This is always supposing, Mr. Balfour, that your evidence is +worth so very great a measure of both risk and fash."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you one thing," said I. "I saw the murderer and it was not +Alan."</p> + +<p>"Then, by God, my cousin's saved!" cried Stewart. "You have his life +upon your tongue; and there's neither time, risk, nor money to be spared to +bring you to the trial." He emptied his pockets on the floor. "Here is all +that I have by me," he went on. "Take it, ye'll want it ere ye're through. +Go straight down this close, there's a way out by there to the Lang Dykes, +and by my will of it! see no more of Edinburgh till the clash is over."</p> + +<p>"Where am I to go, then?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"And I wish that I could tell ye!" says he, "but all the places that I +could send ye to, would be just the places they would seek. No, ye must +fend for yourself, and God be your guiding! Five days before the trial, +September the sixteen, get word to me at the <i>King's Arms</i> in +Stirling; and if ye've managed for yourself as long as that, I'll see that +ye reach Inverary."</p> + +<p>"One thing more," said I. "Can I no see Alan?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>[pg +113]</span>He seemed boggled. "Hech, I would rather you wouldnae," said he. +"But I can never deny that Alan is extremely keen of it, and is to lie this +night by Silvermills on purpose. If you're sure that you're not followed, +Mr. Balfour--but make sure of that--lie in a good place and watch your road +for a clear hour before ye risk it. It would be a dreadful business if both +you and him was to miscarry!"</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>[pg +114]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_X'></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE RED-HEADED MAN</h3> + + +<p>It was about half-past three when I came forth on the Lang Dykes. Dean +was where I wanted to go. Since Catriona dwelled there, and the Glengyle +Macgregors appeared almost certainly to be employed against me, it was just +one of the few places I should have kept away from; and being a very young +man, and beginning to be very much in love, I turned my face in that +direction without pause. As a salve to my conscience and common sense, +however, I took a measure of precaution. Coming over the crown of a bit of +a rise in the road, I clapped down suddenly among the barley and lay +waiting. After a while, a man went by that looked to be a Highlandman, but +I had never seen him till that hour. Presently after came Neil of the red +head. The next to go past was a miller's cart, and after that nothing but +manifest country people. Here was enough to have turned the most foolhardy +from his purpose, but my inclination ran too strong the other way. I argued +it out that if Neil was on that road, it was the right road to find him in, +leading <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a>[pg +115]</span>direct to his chief's daughter; as for the other Highlandman, if +I was to be startled off by every Highlandman I saw, I would scarce reach +anywhere. And having quite satisfied myself with this disingenuous debate, +I made the better speed of it, and came a little after four to Mrs. +Drummond-Ogilvy's.</p> + +<p>Both ladies were within the house; and upon my perceiving them together +by the open door, I plucked off my hat and said, "Here was a lad come +seeking saxpence," which I thought might please the dowager.</p> + +<p>Catriona ran out to greet me heartily, and, to my surprise, the old lady +seemed scarce less forward than herself. I learned long afterwards that she +had despatched a horseman by daylight to Rankeillor at the Queensferry, +whom she knew to be the doer for Shaws, and had then in her pocket a letter +from that good friend of mine, presenting, in the most favourable view, my +character and prospects. But had I read it I could scarce have seen more +clear in her designs. Maybe I was <i>countryfeed</i>; at least, I was not +so much so as she thought; and it was plain enough, even to my homespun +wits, that she was bent to hammer up a match between her cousin and a +beardless boy that was something of a laird in Lothian.</p> + +<p>"Saxpence had better take his broth with us, Catrine," says she. "Run +and tell the lasses."</p> + +<p>And for the little while we were alone was at a good deal of pains to +flatter me; always cleverly, always <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a>[pg 116]</span>with the appearance of a +banter, still calling me Saxpence, but with such a turn that should rather +uplift me in my own opinion. When Catriona returned the design became if +possible more obvious, and she showed off the girl's advantages like a +horse-couper with a horse. My face flamed that she should think me so +obtuse. Now I would fancy the girl was being innocently made a show of, and +then I could have beaten the old carline wife with a cudgel; and now, that +perhaps these two had set their heads together to entrap me, and at that I +sat and gloomed betwixt them like the very image of ill-will. At last the +matchmaker had a better device, which was to leave the pair of us alone. +When my suspicions are anyway roused it is sometimes a little the wrong +side of easy to allay them. But though I knew what breed she was of, and +that was a breed of thieves, I could never look in Catriona's face and +disbelieve her.</p> + +<p>"I must not ask?" says she, eagerly, the same moment we were left +alone.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but to-day I can talk with a free conscience," I replied. "I am +lightened of my pledge, and indeed (after what has come and gone since +morning) I would not have renewed it were it asked."</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she said. "My cousin will not be so long."</p> + +<p>So I told her the tale of the lieutenant from the first step to the last +of it, making it as mirthful as I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" +id="Page_117"></a>[pg 117]</span>could, and, indeed, there was matter of +mirth in that absurdity.</p> + +<p>"And I think you will be as little fitted for the rudas men as for the +pretty ladies, after all!" says she, when I had done. "But what was your +father that he could not learn you to draw the sword? It is most ungentle; +I have not heard the match of that in anyone."</p> + +<p>"It is most misconvenient at least," said I; "and I think my father +(honest man!) must have been wool-gathering to learn me Latin in the place +of it. But you see I do the best I can, and just stand up like Lot's wife +and let them hammer at me."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what makes me smile?" said she. "Well, it is this. I am +made this way, that I should have been a man child. In my own thoughts it +is so I am always; and I go on telling myself about this thing that is to +befall and that. Then it comes to the place of the fighting, and it comes +over me that I am only a girl at all events, and cannot hold a sword or +give one good blow; and then I have to twist my story round about, so that +the fighting is to stop, and yet me have the best of it, just like you and +the lieutenant; and I am the boy that makes the fine speeches all through, +like Mr. David Balfour."</p> + +<p>"You are a bloodthirsty maid," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, I know it is good to sew and spin, and to make samplers," she +said, "but if you were to do <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" +id="Page_118"></a>[pg 118]</span>nothing else in the great world, I think +you will say yourself it is a driech business; and it is not that I want to +kill, I think. Did ever you kill anyone?"</p> + +<p>"That I have, as it chances. Two, no less, and me still a lad that +should be at the college," said I. "But yet, in the look-back, I take no +shame for it."</p> + +<p>"But how did you feel, then--after it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"'Deed, I sat down and grat like a bairn," said I.</p> + +<p>"I know that, too," she cried. "I feel where these tears should come +from. And at any rate, I would not wish to kill, only to be Catherine +Douglas that put her arm through the staples of the bolt, where it was +broken. That is my chief hero. Would you not love to die so--for your +king?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Troth," said I, "my affection for my king, God bless the puggy face of +him, is under more control; and I thought I saw death so near to me this +day already, that I am rather taken up with the notion of living."</p> + +<p>"Right," she said, "the right mind of a man! Only you must learn arms; I +would not like to have a friend that cannot strike. But it will not have +been with the sword that you killed these two?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no," said I, "but with a pair of pistols. And a fortunate thing +it was the men were so near-hand to me, for I am about as clever with the +pistols as I am with the sword."</p> + +<p>So then she drew from me the story of our battle <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a>[pg 119]</span>in the +brig, which I had omitted in my first account of my affairs.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said she, "you are brave. And your friend, I admire and love +him."</p> + +<p>"Well, and I think any one would!" said I. "He has his faults like other +folk; but he is brave and staunch and kind, God bless him! That will be a +strange day when I forget Alan." And the thought of him, and that it was +within my choice to speak with him that night, had almost overcome me.</p> + +<p>"And where will my head be gone that I have not told my news!" she +cried, and spoke of a letter from her father, bearing that she might visit +him to-morrow in the castle whither he was now transferred, and that his +affairs were mending. "You do not like to hear it," said she. "Will you +judge my father and not know him?"</p> + +<p>"I am a thousand miles from judging," I replied. "And I give you my word +I do rejoice to know your heart is lightened. If my face fell at all, as I +suppose it must, you will allow this is rather an ill day for compositions, +and the people in power extremely ill persons to be compounding with. I +have Symon Fraser extremely heavy on my stomach still."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she cried, "you will not be evening these two; and you should bear +in mind that Prestongrange and James More, my father, are of the one +blood."</p> + +<p>"I never heard tell of that," said I.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>[pg +120]</span>"It is rather singular how little you are acquainted with," said +she. "One part may call themselves Grant, and one Macgregor, but they are +still of the same clan. They are all the sons of Alpin, from whom, I think, +our country has its name."</p> + +<p>"What country is that?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"My country and yours," said she.</p> + +<p>"This is my day for discoveries, I think," said I, "for I always thought +the name of it was Scotland."</p> + +<p>"Scotland is the name of what you call Ireland," she replied. "But the +old ancient true name of this place that we have our foot-soles on, and +that our bones are made of, will be Alban. It was Alban they called it when +our forefathers will be fighting for it against Rome and Alexander; and it +is called so still in your own tongue that you forget."</p> + +<p>"Troth," said I, "and that I never learned!" For I lacked heart to take +her up about the Macedonian.</p> + +<p>"But your fathers and mothers talked it, one generation with another," +said she. "And it was sung about the cradles before you or me were ever +dreamed of; and your name remembers it still. Ah, if you could talk that +language you would find me another girl. The heart speaks in that +tongue."</p> + +<p>I had a meal with the two ladies, all very good, served in fine old +plate, and the wine excellent, for it seems that Mrs. Ogilvy was rich. Our +talk, too, was pleasant enough; but as soon as I saw the sun decline <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>[pg 121]</span>sharply +and the shadows to run out long, I rose to take my leave. For my mind was +now made up to say farewell to Alan; and it was needful I should see the +trysting wood, and reconnoitre it, by daylight. Catriona came with me as +far as to the garden gate.</p> + +<p>"It is long till I see you now?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It is beyond my judging," I replied. "It will be long, it may be +never."</p> + +<p>"It may be so," said she. "And you are sorry?"</p> + +<p>I bowed my head, looking upon her.</p> + +<p>"So am I, at all events," said she. "I have seen you but a small time, +but I put you very high. You are true, you are brave; in time I think you +will be more of a man yet. I will be proud to hear of that. If you should +speed worse, if it will come to fall as we are afraid--O well! think you +have the one friend. Long after you are dead and me an old wife, I will be +telling the bairns about David Balfour, and my tears running. I will be +telling how we parted, and what I said to you, and did to you. <i>God go +with you and guide you, prays your little friend</i>: so I said--I will be +telling them--and here is what I did."</p> + +<p>She took up my hand and kissed it. This so surprised my spirits that I +cried out like one hurt. The colour came strong in her face, and she looked +at me and nodded.</p> + +<p>"O yes, Mr. David," said she, "that is what I think of you. The heart +goes with the lips."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a>[pg +122]</span>I could read in her face high spirit, and a chivalry like a +brave child's; not anything besides. She kissed my hand, as she had kissed +Prince Charlie's, with a higher passion than the common kind of clay has +any sense of. Nothing before had taught me how deep I was her lover, nor +how far I had yet to climb to make her think of me in such a character. Yet +I could tell myself I had advanced some way, and that her heart had beat +and her blood flowed at thoughts of me.</p> + +<p>After that honour she had done me I could offer no more trivial +civility. It was even hard for me to speak; a certain lifting in her voice +had knocked directly at the door of my own tears.</p> + +<p>"I praise God for your kindness, dear," said I. "Farewell, my little +friend!" giving her that name which she had given to herself; with which I +bowed and left her.</p> + +<p>My way was down the glen of the Leith River, towards Stockbridge and +Silvermills. A path led in the foot of it, the water bickered and sang in +the midst; the sunbeams overhead struck out of the west among long shadows +and (as the valley turned) made like a new scene and a new world of it at +every corner. With Catriona behind and Alan before me, I was like one +lifted up. The place besides, and the hour, and the talking of the water, +infinitely pleased me; and I lingered in my steps and looked before and +behind me as I went. This was the cause, under providence, that <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>[pg 123]</span>I spied +a little in my rear a red head among some bushes.</p> + +<p>Anger sprang in my heart, and I turned straight about and walked at a +stiff pace to where I came from. The path lay close by the bushes where I +had remarked the head. The cover came to the wayside, and as I passed I was +all strung up to meet and to resist an onfall. No such thing befell, I went +by unmeddled with; and at that fear increased upon me. It was still day +indeed, but the place exceeding solitary. If my haunters had let slip that +fair occasion I could but judge they aimed at something more than David +Balfour. The lives of Alan and James weighed upon my spirit with the weight +of two grown bullocks.</p> + +<p>Catriona was yet in the garden walking by herself.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said I, "you see me back again."</p> + +<p>"With a changed face," said she.</p> + +<p>"I carry two men's lives besides my own," said I. "It would be a sin and +a shame not to walk carefully. I was doubtful whether I did right to come +here. I would like it ill, if it was by that means we were brought to +harm."</p> + +<p>"I could tell you one that would be liking it less, and will like little +enough to hear you talking at this very same time," she cried. "What have I +done, at all events?"</p> + +<p>"O, you! you are not alone," I replied. "But since I went off I have +been dogged again, and I can give you <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a>[pg 124]</span>the name of him that +follows me. It is Neil, son of Duncan, your man or your father's."</p> + +<p>"To be sure you are mistaken there," she said, with a white face. "Neil +is in Edinburgh on errands from my father."</p> + +<p>"It is what I fear," said I, "the last of it. But for his being in +Edinburgh I think I can show you another of that. For sure you have some +signal, a signal of need, such as would bring him to your help, if he was +anywhere within the reach of ears and legs?"</p> + +<p>"Why, how will you know that?" says she.</p> + +<p>"By means of a magical talisman God gave to me when I was born, and the +name they call it by is Common-sense," said I. "Oblige me so far as to make +your signal, and I will show you the red head of Neil."</p> + +<p>No doubt but I spoke bitter and sharp. My heart was bitter. I blamed +myself and the girl and hated both of us: her for the vile crew that she +was come of, myself for my wanton folly to have stuck my head in such a +byke of wasps.</p> + +<p>Catriona set her fingers to her lips and whistled once, with an +exceeding clear, strong, mounting note, as full as a ploughman's. A while +we stood silent; and I was about to ask her to repeat the same, when I +heard the sound of some one bursting through the bushes below on the +braeside. I pointed in that direction with a smile, and presently Neil +leaped into the garden. His eyes burned, and he had a black <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a>[pg 125]</span>knife +(as they call it on the Highland side) naked in his hand; but, seeing me +beside his mistress, stood like a man struck.</p> + +<p>"He has come to your call," said I; "judge how near he was to Edinburgh, +or what was the nature of your father's errands. Ask himself. If I am to +lose my life, or the lives of those that hang by me, through the means of +your clan, let me go where I have to go with my eyes open."</p> + +<p>She addressed him tremulously in the Gaelic. Remembering Alan's anxious +civility in that particular, I could have laughed out loud for bitterness; +here, sure, in the midst of these suspicions, was the hour she should have +stuck by English.</p> + +<p>Twice or thrice they spoke together, and I could make out that Neil (for +all his obsequiousness) was an angry man.</p> + +<p>Then she turned to me. "He swears it is not," she said.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said I, "do you believe the man yourself?"</p> + +<p>She made a gesture like wringing the hands.</p> + +<p>"How will I can know?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"But I must find some means to know," said I. "I cannot continue to go +dovering round in the black night with two men's lives at my girdle! +Catriona, try to put yourself in my place, as I vow to God I try hard to +put myself in yours. This is no kind of talk that <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a>[pg 126]</span>should ever have fallen +between me and you; no kind of talk; my heart is sick with it. See, keep +him here till two of the morning, and I care not. Try him with that."</p> + +<p>They spoke together once more in the Gaelic.</p> + +<p>"He says he has James More my father's errand," said she. She was whiter +than ever, and her voice faltered as she said it.</p> + +<p>"It is pretty plain now," said I, "and may God forgive the wicked!"</p> + +<p>She said never anything to that, but continued gazing at me with the +same white face.</p> + +<p>"This is a fine business," said I again. "Am I to fall, then, and those +two along with me?"</p> + +<p>"O, what am I to do?" she cried. "Could I go against my father's orders, +and him in prison, in the danger of his life?"</p> + +<p>"But perhaps we go too fast," said I. "This may be a lie too. He may +have no right orders; all may be contrived by Symon, and your father +knowing nothing."</p> + +<p>She burst out weeping between the pair of us; and my heart smote me +hard, for I thought this girl was in a dreadful situation.</p> + +<p>"Here," said I, "keep him but the one hour; and I'll chance it, and say +God bless you."</p> + +<p>She put out her hand to me. "I will be needing one good word," she +sobbed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>[pg +127]</span>"The full hour, then?" said I, keeping her hand in mine. "Three +lives of it, my lass!"</p> + +<p>"The full hour!" she said, and cried aloud on her Redeemer to forgive +her.</p> + +<p>I thought it no fit place for me, and fled.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>[pg +128]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE WOOD BY SILVERMILLS</h3> + + +<p>I lost no time, but down through the valley and by Stockbrig and +Silvermills as hard as I could stave. It was Alan's tryst to lie every +night between twelve and two "in a bit scrog of wood by east of Silvermills +and by south the south mill-lade." This I found easy enough, where it grew +on a steep brae, with the mill-lade flowing swift and deep along the foot +of it; and here I began to walk slower and to reflect more reasonably on my +employment. I saw I had made but a fool's bargain with Catriona. It was not +to be supposed that Neil was sent alone upon his errand, but perhaps he was +the only man belonging to James More; in which case, I should have done all +I could to hang Catriona's father, and nothing the least material to help +myself. To tell the truth, I fancied neither one of these ideas. Suppose, +by holding back Neil, the girl should have helped to hang her father, I +thought she would never forgive herself this side of time. And suppose +there were others pursuing me that moment, what kind of a gift was I come +bringing to Alan? and how would I like that?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>[pg +129]</span>I was up with the west end of that wood when these two +considerations struck me like a cudgel. My feet stopped of themselves and +my heart along with them. "What wild game is this that I have been +playing?" thought I; and turned instantly upon my heels to go +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>This brought my face to Silvermills; the path came past the village with +a crook, but all plainly visible; and, Highland or Lowland, there was +nobody stirring. Here was my advantage, here was just such a conjuncture as +Stewart had counselled me to profit by, and I ran by the side of the +mill-lade, fetched about beyond the east corner of the wood, threaded +through the midst of it, and returned to the west selvage, whence I could +again command the path, and yet be myself unseen. Again it was all empty, +and my heart began to rise.</p> + +<p>For more than an hour I sat close in the border of the trees, and no +hare or eagle could have kept a more particular watch. When that hour began +the sun was already set, but the sky still all golden and the daylight +clear; before the hour was done it had fallen to be half mirk, the images +and distances of things were mingled, and observation began to be +difficult. All that time not a foot of man had come east from Silvermills, +and the few that had gone west were honest countryfolk and their wives upon +the road to bed. If I were tracked by the most cunning spies in Europe, I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a>[pg +130]</span>judged it was beyond the course of nature they could have any +jealousy of where I was; and going a little further home into the wood I +lay down to wait for Alan.</p> + +<p>The strain of my attention had been great, for I had watched not the +path only, but every bush and field within my vision. That was now at an +end. The moon, which was in her first quarter, glinted a little in the +wood; all round there was a stillness of the country; and as I lay there on +my back, the next three or four hours, I had a fine occasion to review my +conduct.</p> + +<p>Two things became plain to me first: that I had had no right to go that +day to Dean, and (having gone there) had now no right to be lying where I +was. This (where Alan was to come) was just the one wood in all broad +Scotland that was, by every proper feeling, closed against me; I admitted +that, and yet stayed on, wondering at myself. I thought of the measure with +which I had meted to Catriona that same night; how I had prated of the two +lives I carried, and had thus forced her to enjeopardy her father's; and +how I was here exposing them again, it seemed in wantonness. A good +conscience is eight parts of courage. No sooner had I lost conceit of my +behaviour, than I seemed to stand disarmed amidst a throng of terrors. Of a +sudden I sat up. How if I went now to Prestongrange, caught him (as I still +easily might) before he slept, and made a full submission? Who could blame +me? Not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>[pg +131]</span>Stewart the writer; I had but to say that I was followed, +despaired of getting clear, and so gave in. Not Catriona: here, too, I had +my answer ready; that I could not bear she should expose her father. So, in +a moment, I could lay all these troubles by, which were after all and truly +none of mine; swim clear of the Appin murder; get forth out of handstroke +of all the Stewarts and Campbells, all the whigs and tories, in the land; +and live thenceforth to my own mind, and be able to enjoy and to improve my +fortunes, and devote some hours of my youth to courting Catriona, which +would be surely a more suitable occupation than to hide and run and be +followed like a hunted thief, and begin over again the dreadful miseries of +my escape with Alan.</p> + +<p>At first I thought no shame of this capitulation; I was only amazed I +had not thought upon the thing and done it earlier; and began to inquire +into the causes of the change. These I traced to my lowness of spirits, +that back to my late recklessness, and that again to the common, old, +public, disconsidered sin of self-indulgence. Instantly the text came in my +head, "<i>How can Satan cast out Satan?</i>" What? (I thought) I had, by +self-indulgence, and the following of pleasant paths, and the lure of a +young maid, cast myself wholly out of conceit with my own character, and +jeopardised the lives of James and Alan? And I was to seek the way out by +the same road as I had <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" +id="Page_132"></a>[pg 132]</span>entered in? No; the hurt that had been +caused by self-indulgence must be cured by self-denial; the flesh I had +pampered must be crucified. I looked about me for that course which I least +liked to follow: this was to leave the wood without waiting to see Alan, +and go forth again alone, in the dark and in the midst of my perplexed and +dangerous fortunes.</p> + +<p>I have been the more careful to narrate this passage of my reflections, +because I think it is of some utility, and may serve as an example to young +men. But there is reason (they say) in planting kale, and even in ethic and +religion, room for common sense. It was already close on Alan's hour, and +the moon was down. If I left (as I could not very decently whistle to my +spies to follow me) they might miss me in the dark and tack themselves to +Alan by mistake. If I stayed, I could at the least of it set my friend upon +his guard which might prove his mere salvation. I had adventured other +peoples' safety in a course of self-indulgence; to have endangered them +again, and now on a mere design of penance, would have been scarce +rational. Accordingly, I had scarce risen from my place ere I sat down +again, but already in a different frame of spirits, and equally marvelling +at my past weakness and rejoicing in my present composure.</p> + +<p>Presently after came a crackling in the thicket. Putting my mouth near +down to the ground, I whistled a note or two of Alan's air; an answer came, +in the like <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a>[pg +133]</span>guarded tone, and soon we had thralled together in the dark.</p> + +<p>"Is this you at last, Davie?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Just myself," said I.</p> + +<p>"God, man, but I've been wearying to see ye!" says he. "I've had the +longest kind of a time. A' day, I've had my dwelling into the inside of a +stack of hay, where I couldnae see the nebs of my ten fingers; and then two +hours of it waiting here for you, and you never coming! Dod, and ye're none +too soon the way it is, with me to sail the morn! The morn? what am I +saying?--the day, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Ay, Alan, man, the day, sure enough," said I. "It's past twelve now, +surely, and ye sail the day. This'll be a long road you have before +you."</p> + +<p>"We'll have a long crack of it first," said he.</p> + +<p>"Well, indeed, and I have a good deal it will be telling you to hear," +said I.</p> + +<p>And I told him what behooved, making rather a jumble of it, but clear +enough when done. He heard me out with very few questions, laughing here +and there like a man delighted: and the sound of his laughing (above all +there, in the dark, where neither one of us could see the other) was +extraordinary friendly to my heart.</p> + +<p>"Ay, Davie, ye're a queer character," says he, when I had done: "a queer +bitch after a', and I have no mind of meeting with the like of ye. As for +your <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>[pg +134]</span>story, Prestongrange is a Whig like yoursel', so I'll say the +less of him; and, dod! I believe he was the best friend ye had, if ye could +only trust him. But Symon Fraser and James More are my ain kind of cattle, +and I'll give them the name that they deserve. The muckle black de'il was +father to the Frasers, a'body kens that; and as for the Gregara, I never +could abye the reek of them since I could stotter on two feet. I bloodied +the nose of one, I mind, when I was still so wambly on my legs that I +cowped upon the top of him. A proud man was my father that day, God rest +him! and I think he had the cause. I'll never can deny but what Robin was +something of a piper," he added; "but as for James More, the de'il guide +him for me!"</p> + +<p>"One thing we have to consider," said I. "Was Charles Stewart right or +wrong? Is it only me they're after, or the pair of us?"</p> + +<p>"And what's your ain opinion, you that's a man of so much experience?" +said he.</p> + +<p>"It passes me," said I.</p> + +<p>"And me too," says Alan. "Do ye think this lass would keep her word to +ye?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I do that," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's nae telling," said he. "And anyway, that's over and done: +he'll be joined to the rest of them lang syne."</p> + +<p>"How many would ye think there would be of them?" I asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a>[pg +135]</span>"That depends," said Alan. "If it was only you, they would +likely send two-three lively, brisk young birkies, and if they thought that +I was to appear in the employ, I daresay ten or twelve," said he.</p> + +<p>It was no use, I gave a little crack of laughter.</p> + +<p>"And I think your own two eyes will have seen me drive that number, or +the double of it, nearer hand!" cries he.</p> + +<p>"It matters the less," said I, "because I am well rid of them for this +time."</p> + +<p>"Nae doubt that's your opinion," said he; "but I wouldnae be the least +surprised if they were hunkering this wood. Ye see, David man, they'll be +Hieland folk. There'll be some Frasers, I'm thinking, and some of the +Gregara; and I would never deny but what the both of them, and the Gregara +in especial, were clever experienced persons. A man kens little till he's +driven a spreagh of neat cattle (say) ten miles through a throng lowland +country and the black soldiers maybe at his tail. It's there that I learned +a great part of my penetration. And ye need nae tell me: it's better than +war; which is the next best, however, though generally rather a bauchle of +a business. Now the Gregara have had grand practice."</p> + +<p>"No doubt that's a branch of education that was left out with me," said +I.</p> + +<p>"And I can see the marks of it upon ye constantly," said Alan. "But +that's the strange thing about you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" +id="Page_136"></a>[pg 136]</span>folk of the college learning: ye're +ignorant, and ye cannae see 't. Wae's me for my Greek and Hebrew; but, man, +I ken that I dinnae ken them--there's the differ of it. Now, here's you. Ye +lie on your wame a bittie in the bield of this wood, and ye tell me that +ye've cuist off these Frasers and Macgregors. Why! <i>Because I couldnae +see them</i>, says you. Ye blockhead, that's their livelihood."</p> + +<p>"Take the worst of it," said I, "and what are we to do?"</p> + +<p>"I am thinking of that same," said he. "We might twine. It wouldnae be +greatly to my taste; and forbye that, I see reasons against it. First, it's +now unco dark, and it's just humanly possible we might give them the clean +slip. If we keep together, we make but the ae line of it; if we gang +separate, we make twae of them: the more likelihood to stave in upon some +of these gentry of yours. And then, second, if they keep the track of us, +it may come to a fecht for it yet, Davie; and then, I'll confess I would be +blythe to have you at my oxter, and I think you would be none the worse of +having me at yours. So, by my way of it, we should creep out of this wood +no further gone than just the inside of next minute, and hold away east for +Gillane, where I'm to find my ship. It'll be like old days while it lasts, +Davie; and (come the time) we'll have to think what you should be doing. +I'm wae to leave ye here, wanting me."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a>[pg +137]</span>"Have with ye, then!" says I. "Do ye gang back where you were +stopping."</p> + +<p>"De'il a fear!" said Alan. "They were good folks to me, but I think they +would be a good deal disappointed if they saw my bonny face again. For (the +way times go) I amnae just what ye could call a Walcome Guest. Which makes +me the keener for your company, Mr. David Balfour of the Shaws, and set ye +up! For, leave aside twa cracks here in the wood with Charlie Stewart, I +have scarce said black or white since the day we parted at +Corstorphine."</p> + +<p>With which he rose from his place, and we began to move quietly eastward +through the wood.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a>[pg +138]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>ON THE MARCH AGAIN WITH ALAN</h3> + + +<p>It was likely between one and two; the moon (as I have said) was down; a +strongish wind, carrying a heavy wrack of cloud, had set in suddenly from +the west; and we began our movement in as black a night as ever a fugitive +or a murderer wanted. The whiteness of the path guided us into the sleeping +town of Broughton, thence through Picardy, and beside my old acquaintance +the gibbet of the two thieves. A little beyond we made a useful beacon, +which was a light in an upper window of Lochend. Steering by this, but a +good deal at random, and with some trampling of the harvest, and stumbling +and falling down upon the banks, we made our way across country, and won +forth at last upon the linky, boggy muirland that they call the Figgate +Whins. Here, under a bush of whin, we lay down the remainder of that night +and slumbered.</p> + +<p>The day called us about five. A beautiful morning it was, the high +westerly wind still blowing strong, but the clouds all blown away to +Europe. Alan was already sitting up and smiling to himself. It was my first +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a>[pg +139]</span>sight of my friend since we were parted, and I looked upon him +with enjoyment. He had still the same big great-coat on his back; but (what +was new) he had now a pair of knitted boot-hose drawn above the knee. +Doubtless these were intended for disguise; but, as the day promised to be +warm, he made a most unseasonable figure.</p> + +<p>"Well, Davie," said he, "is this no a bonny morning? Here is a day that +looks the way that a day ought to. This is a great change of it from the +belly of my haystack; and while you were there sottering and sleeping I +have done a thing that maybe I do over seldom."</p> + +<p>"And what was that?" said I.</p> + +<p>"O, just said my prayers," said he.</p> + +<p>"And where are my gentry, as ye call them?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Gude kens," says he; "and the short and the long of it is that we must +take our chance of them. Up with your foot-soles, Davie! Forth, Fortune, +once again of it! And a bonny walk we are like to have."</p> + +<p>So we went east by the beach of the sea, towards where the salt-pans +were smoking in by the Esk mouth. No doubt there was a by-ordinary bonny +blink of morning sun on Arthur's Seat and the green Pentlands; and the +pleasantness of the day appeared to set Alan among nettles.</p> + +<p>"I feel like a gomeral," says he, "to be leaving Scotland <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a>[pg 140]</span>on a +day like this. It sticks in my head; I would maybe like it better to stay +here and hing."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but ye wouldnae, Alan," said I.</p> + +<p>"No but what France is a good place too," he explained; "but it's some +way no the same. It's brawer, I believe, but it's no Scotland. I like it +fine when I'm there, man; yet I kind of weary for Scots divots and the +Scots peat-reek."</p> + +<p>"If that's all you have to complain of, Alan, it's no such great +affair," said I.</p> + +<p>"And it sets me ill to be complaining, whatever," said he, "and me but +new out of yon de'il's haystack."</p> + +<p>"And so you were unco' weary of your haystack?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Weary's nae word for it," said he. "I'm not just precisely a man that's +easily cast down; but I do better with caller air and the lift above my +head. I'm like the auld Black Douglas (wasnae't?) that likit better to hear +the laverock sing than the mouse cheep. And yon place, ye see, Davie--whilk +was a very suitable place to hide in, as I'm free to own--was pit mirk from +dawn to gloaming. There were days (or nights, for how would I tell one from +other?) that seemed to me as long as a long winter."</p> + +<p>"How did you know the hour to bide your tryst?" I asked.</p> + + + +<a name="balfour004"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour004.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: THE GOODMAN BROUGHT ME MY MEAT AND A DROP +BRANDY, AND A CANDLE-DOWP TO EAT IT BY, ABOUT ELEEVEN, SAID HE" src="images/balfour004sm.jpg" height="562" width="382" /></a> +<br />THE GOODMAN BROUGHT ME MY MEAT AND A DROP +BRANDY, AND A CANDLE-DOWP TO EAT IT BY, ABOUT ELEEVEN, SAID HE + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<p>"The goodman brought me my meat and a drop <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a>[pg 141]</span>brandy, and a candle-dowp +to eat it by, about eleeven," said he. "So, when I had swallowed a bit, it +would be time to be getting to the wood. There I lay and wearied for ye +sore, Davie," says he, laying his hand on my shoulder, "and guessed when +the two hours would be about by--unless Charlie Stewart would come and tell +me on his watch--and then back to the dooms haystack. Na, it was a driech +employ, and praise the Lord that I have warstled through with it!"</p> + +<p>"What did you do with yourself?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Faith," said he, "the best I could! Whiles I played at the +knucklebones. I'm an extraordinar good hand at the knucklebones, but it's a +poor piece of business playing with naebody to admire ye. And whiles I +would make songs."</p> + +<p>"What were they about?" says I.</p> + +<p>"O, about the deer and the heather," says he, "and about the ancient old +chiefs that are all by with it long syne, and just about what songs are +about in general. And then whiles I would make believe I had a set of pipes +and I was playing. I played some grand springs, and I thought I played them +awful bonny; I vow whiles that I could hear the squeal of them! But the +great affair is that it's done with."</p> + +<p>With that he carried me again to my adventures, which he heard all over +again with more particularity, and extraordinary approval, swearing at +intervals that I was "a queer character of a callant."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a>[pg +142]</span>"So ye were frich'ened of Sym Fraser?" he asked once.</p> + +<p>"In troth was I!" cried I.</p> + +<p>"So would I have been, Davie," said he. "And that is indeed a dreidful +man. But it is only proper to give the de'il his due; and I can tell you he +is a most respectable person on the field of war."</p> + +<p>"Is he so brave?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Brave!" said he. "He is as brave as my steel sword."</p> + +<p>The story of my duel set him beside himself.</p> + +<p>"To think of that!" he cried. "I showed ye the trick in Corrynakiegh +too. And three times--three times disarmed! It's a disgrace upon my +character that learned ye! Here, stand up, out with your airn; ye shall +walk no step beyond this place upon the road till ye can do yoursel' and me +mair credit."</p> + +<p>"Alan," said I, "this is midsummer madness. Here is no time for fencing +lessons."</p> + +<p>"I cannae well say no to that," he admitted. "But three times, man! And +you standing there like a straw bogle and rinning to fetch your ain sword +like a doggie with a pocket-napkin! David, this man Duncansby must be +something altogether by-ordinar! He maun be extraordinar skilly. If I had +the time, I would gang straight back and try a turn at him mysel'. The man +must be a provost."</p> + +<p>"You silly fellow," said I, "you forget it was just me."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a>[pg +143]</span>"Na," said he, "but three times!"</p> + +<p>"When ye ken yourself that I am fair incompetent," I cried.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never heard tell the equal of it," said he.</p> + +<p>"I promise you the one thing, Alan," said I. "The next time that we +forgather, I'll be better learned. You shall not continue to bear the +disgrace of a friend that cannot strike."</p> + +<p>"Ay, the next time!" says he. "And when will that be, I would like to +ken?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Alan, I have had some thoughts of that, too," said I; "and my +plan is this. It's my opinion to be called an advocate."</p> + +<p>"That's but a weary trade, Davie," says Alan, "and rather a blagyard one +forby. Ye would be better in a king's coat than that."</p> + +<p>"And no doubt that would be the way to have us meet," cried I. "But as +you'll be in King Lewie's coat, and I'll be in King Geordie's, we'll have a +dainty meeting of it."</p> + +<p>"There's some sense in that," he admitted.</p> + +<p>"An advocate, then, it'll have to be," I continued, "and I think it a +more suitable trade for a gentleman that was <i>three times</i> disarmed. +But the beauty of the thing is this: that one of the best colleges for that +kind of learning--and the one where my kinsman, Pilrig, made his +studies--is the college of Leyden in Holland. Now, what say you, Alan? +Could not a cadet of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" +id="Page_144"></a>[pg 144]</span><i>Royal Ecossais</i> get a furlough, slip +over the marches, and call in upon a Leyden student!"</p> + +<p>"Well, and I would think he could!" cried he. "Ye see, I stand well in +with my colonel, Count Drummond-Melfort; and, what's mair to the purpose, I +have a cousin of mine lieutenant-colonel in a regiment of the Scots-Dutch. +Naething could be mair proper than what I would get a leave to see +Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart of Halkett's. And Lord Melfort, who is a very +scienteefic kind of a man, and writes books like Cæsar, would be +doubtless very pleased to have the advantage of my observes."</p> + +<p>"Is Lord Melfort an author, then?" I asked, for much as Alan thought of +soldiers, I thought more of the gentry that write books.</p> + +<p>"The very same, Davie," said he. "One would think a colonel would have +something better to attend to. But what can I say that make songs?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said I, "it only remains you should give me an address to +write you at in France; and as soon as I am got to Leyden I will send you +mine."</p> + +<p>"The best will be to write me in the care of my chieftain," said he, +"Charles Stewart, of Ardsheil, Esquire, at the town of Melons, in the Isle +of France. It might take long, or it might take short, but it would aye get +to my hands at the last of it."</p> + +<p>We had a haddock to our breakfast in Musselburgh, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a>[pg 145]</span>where +it amused me vastly to hear Alan. His great-coat and boot-hose were +extremely remarkable this warm morning, and perhaps some hint of an +explanation had been wise; but Alan went into that matter like a business, +or I should rather say, like a diversion. He engaged the goodwife of the +house with some compliments upon the rizzoring of our haddocks; and the +whole of the rest of our stay held her in talk about a cold he had taken on +his stomach, gravely relating all manner of symptoms and sufferings, and +hearing with a vast show of interest all the old wives' remedies she could +supply him with in return.</p> + +<p>We left Musselburgh before the first ninepenny coach was due from +Edinburgh, for (as Alan said) that was a rencounter we might very well +avoid. The wind, although still high, was very mild, the sun shone strong, +and Alan began to suffer in proportion. From Prestonpans he had me aside to +the field of Gladsmuir, where he exerted himself a great deal more than +needful to describe the stages of the battle. Thence, at his old round +pace, we travelled to Cockenzie. Though they were building herring-busses +there at Mrs. Cadell's, it seemed a desert-like, back-going town, about +half full of ruined houses; but the ale-house was clean, and Alan, who was +now in a glowing heat, must indulge himself with a bottle of ale, and carry +on to the new luckie with the old story of the cold upon his stomach, only +now the symptoms were all different.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a>[pg +146]</span>I sat listening; and it came in my mind that I had scarce ever +heard him address three serious words to any woman, but he was always +drolling and fleering and making a private mock of them, and yet brought to +that business a remarkable degree of energy and interest. Something to this +effect I remarked to him, when the good wife (as chanced) was called +away.</p> + +<p>"What do ye want?" says he. "A man should aye put his best foot forrit +with the womenkind; he should aye give them a bit of a story to divert +them, the poor lambs! It's what ye should learn to attend to, David; ye +should get the principles, it's like a trade. Now, if this had been a young +lassie, or onyways bonnie, she would never have heard tell of my stomach, +Davie. But aince they're too old to be seeking joes, they a' set up to be +apotecaries. Why? What do I ken? They'll be just the way God made them, I +suppose. But I think a man would be a gomeral that didnae give his +attention to the same."</p> + +<p>And here, the luckie coming back, he turned from me as if with +impatience to renew their former conversation. The lady had branched some +while before from Alan's stomach to the case of a goodbrother of her own in +Aberlady, whose last sickness and demise she was describing at +extraordinary length. Sometimes it was merely dull, sometimes both dull and +awful, for she talked with unction. The upshot was that I fell in a deep +muse, looking forth of the window on the road, <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a>[pg 147]</span>and scarce marking what I +saw. Presently had any been looking they might have seen me to start.</p> + +<p>"We pit a fomentation to his feet," the goodwife was saying, "and a het +stane to his wame, and we gied him hyssop and water of pennyroyal, and +fine, clean balsam of sulphur for the hoast...."</p> + +<p>"Sir," says I, cutting very quietly in, "there's a friend of mine gone +by the house."</p> + +<p>"Is that e'en sae?" replies Alan, as though it were a thing of +small-account. And then, "Ye were saying, mem?" says he; and the wearyful +wife went on.</p> + +<p>Presently, however, he paid her with a half-crown piece, and she must go +forth after the change.</p> + +<p>"Was it him with the red head?" asked Alan.</p> + +<p>"Ye have it," said I.</p> + +<p>"What did I tell you in the wood?" he cried. "And yet it's strange he +should be here too! Was he his lane?"</p> + +<p>"His lee-lane for what I could see," said I.</p> + +<p>"Did he gang by?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Straight by," said I, "and looked neither to the right nor left."</p> + +<p>"And that's queerer yet," said Alan. "It sticks in my mind, Davie, that +we should be stirring. But where to?--deil hae't! This is like old days +fairly," cries he.</p> + +<p>"There is one big differ, though," said I, "that now we have money in +our pockets."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a>[pg +148]</span>"And another big differ, Mr. Balfour," says he, "that now we +have dogs at our tail. They're on the scent; they're in full cry, David. +It's a bad business and be damned to it." And he sat thinking hard with a +look of his that I knew well.</p> + +<p>"I'm saying, Luckie," says he, when the goodwife returned, "have ye a +back road out of this change house?"</p> + +<p>She told him there was and where it led to.</p> + +<p>"Then, sir," says he to me, "I think that will be the shortest road for +us. And here's good-bye to ye, my braw woman; and I'll no forget thon of +the cinnamon water."</p> + +<p>We went out by way of the woman's kale yard, and up a lane among fields. +Alan looked sharply to all sides, and seeing we were in a little hollow +place of the country, out of view of men, sat down.</p> + +<p>"Now for a council of war, Davie," said he. "But first of all, a bit +lesson to ye. Suppose that I had been like you, what would yon old wife +have minded of the pair of us? Just that we had gone out by the back gate. +And what does she mind now? A fine, canty, friendly, cracky man, that +suffered with the stomach, poor body! and was real ta'en up about the +goodbrother. O man, David, try and learn to have some kind of +intelligence!"</p> + +<p>"I'll try, Alan," said I.</p> + +<p>"And now for him of the red head," says he; "was he gaun fast or +slow?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a>[pg +149]</span>"Betwixt and between," said I.</p> + +<p>"No kind of a hurry about the man?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Never a sign of it," said I.</p> + +<p>"Nhm!" said Alan, "it looks queer. We saw nothing of them this morning +on the Whins; he's passed us by, he doesnae seem to be looking, and yet +here he is on our road! Dod, Davie, I begin to take a notion. I think it's +no you they're seeking, I think it's me; and I think they ken fine where +they're gaun."</p> + +<p>"They ken?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I think Andie Scougal's sold me--him or his mate wha kent some part of +the affair--or else Chairlie's clerk callant, which would be a pity too," +says Alan; "and if you askit me for just my inward private conviction, I +think there'll be heads cracked on Gillane sands."</p> + +<p>"Alan," I cried, "if you're at all right there'll be folk there and to +spare. It'll be small service to crack heads."</p> + +<p>"It would aye be a satisfaction though," says Alan. "But bide a bit, +bide a bit; I'm thinking--and thanks to this bonny westland wind, I believe +I've still a chance of it. It's this way, Davie. I'm no trysted with this +man Scougal till the gloaming comes. <i>But</i>," says he, "<i>if I can get +a bit of a wind out of the west I'll be there long or that</i>," he says, +"<i>and lie-to for ye behind the Isle of Fidra</i>. Now if your gentry kens +the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a>[pg +150]</span>place, they ken the time forbye. Do ye see me coming, Davie? +Thanks to Johnnie Cope and other red-coat gomerals, I should ken this +country like the back of my hand; and if ye're ready for another bit run +with Alan Breck, we'll can cast back inshore, and come down to the seaside +again by Dirleton. If the ship's there, we'll try and get on board of her. +If she's no there, I'll just have to get back to my weary haystack. But +either way of it, I think we will leave your gentry whistling on their +thumbs."</p> + +<p>"I believe there's some chance in it," said I. "Have on with ye, +Alan!"</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a>[pg +151]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>GILLANE SANDS</h3> + + +<p>I did not profit by Alan's pilotage as he had done by his marchings +under General Cope; for I can scarce tell what way we went. It is my excuse +that we travelled exceeding fast. Some part we ran, some trotted, and the +rest walked at a vengeance of a pace. Twice, while we were at top speed, we +ran against country-folk; but though we plumped into the first from round a +corner, Alan was as ready as a loaded musket.</p> + +<p>"Hae ye seen my horse?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Na, man, I haenae seen nae horse the day," replied the countryman.</p> + +<p>And Alan spared the time to explain to him that we were travelling "ride +and tie"; that our charger had escaped, and it was feared he had gone home +to Linton. Not only that, but he expended some breath (of which he had not +very much left) to curse his own misfortune and my stupidity which was said +to be its cause.</p> + +<p>"Them that cannae tell the truth," he observed to myself as we went on +again, "should be aye mindfu' to leave an honest, handy lee behind them. If +folk <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a>[pg +152]</span>dinnae ken what ye're doing, Davie, they're terrible taken up +with it; but if they think they ken, they care nae mair for it than what I +do for pease porridge."</p> + +<p>As we had first made inland, so our road came in the end to lie very +near due north; the old Kirk of Aberlady for a landmark on the left; on the +right, the top of the Berwick Law; and it was thus we struck the shore +again, not far from Dirleton. From North Berwick west to Gillane Ness there +runs a string of four small islets, Craiglieth, the Lamb, Fidra, and +Eyebrough, notable by their diversity of size and shape. Fidra is the most +particular, being a strange grey islet of two humps, made the more +conspicuous by a piece of ruin; and I mind that (as we drew closer to it) +by some door or window of these ruins the sea peeped through like a man's +eye. Under the lee of Fidra there is a good anchorage in westerly winds, +and there, from a far way off, we could see the <i>Thistle</i> riding.</p> + +<p>The shore in face of these islets is altogether waste. Here is no +dwelling of man, and scarce any passage, or at most of vagabond children +running at their play. Gillane is a small place on the far side of the +Ness, the folk of Dirleton go to their business in the inland fields, and +those of North Berwick straight to the sea-fishing from their haven; so +that few parts of the coast are lonelier. But I mind, as we crawled upon +our bellies into that multiplicity of heights and hollows, keeping a bright +eye upon all sides, and our <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" +id="Page_153"></a>[pg 153]</span>hearts hammering at our ribs, there was +such a shining of the sun and the sea, such a stir of the wind in the bent +grass, and such a bustle of down-popping rabbits and up-flying gulls, that +the desert seemed to me like a place alive. No doubt it was in all ways +well chosen for a secret embarcation, if the secret had been kept; and even +now that it was out, and the place watched, we were able to creep +unperceived to the front of the sandhills, where they look down immediately +on the beach and sea.</p> + +<p>But here Alan came to a full stop.</p> + +<p>"Davie," said he, "this is a kittle passage! As long as we lie here +we're safe; but I'm nane sae muckle nearer to my ship or the coast of +France. And as soon as we stand up and signal the brig, it's another +matter. For where will your gentry be, think ye?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe they're no come yet," said I. "And even if they are, there's one +clear matter in our favour. They'll be all arranged to take us, that's +true. But they'll have arranged for our coming from the east, and here we +are upon their west."</p> + +<p>"Ay," says Alan, "I wish we were in some force, and this was a battle, +we would have bonnily out-manoeuvred them! But it isnae, Davit; and the way +it is, is a wee thing less inspiring to Alan Breck. I swither, Davie."</p> + +<p>"Time flies, Alan," said I.</p> + +<p>"I ken that," said Alan. "I ken naething else, as <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a>[pg 154]</span>the +French folk say. But this is a dreidful case of heids or tails. O! if I +could but ken where your gentry were!"</p> + +<p>"Alan," said I, "this is no like you. It's got to be now or never."</p> + +<blockquote> +"This is no me, quo' he,"<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>sang Alan, with a queer face betwixt shame and drollery.</p> + +<blockquote> +"Neither you nor me, quo' he, neither you nor me,<br /> +Wow, na, Johnnie man! neither you nor me."<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>And then of a sudden he stood straight up where he was, and with a +handkerchief flying in his right hand, marched down upon the beach. I stood +up myself, but lingered behind him, scanning the sandhills to the east. His +appearance was at first unremarked: Scougal not expecting him so early, and +<i>my gentry</i> watching on the other side. Then they awoke on board the +<i>Thistle</i>, and it seemed they had all in readiness, for there was +scarce a second's bustle on the deck before we saw a skiff put round her +stern and begin to pull lively for the coast. Almost at the same moment of +time, and perhaps half a mile away towards Gillane Ness, the figure of a +man appeared for a blink upon a sandhill, waving with his arms; and though +he was gone again in the same flash, the gulls in that part continued a +little longer to fly wild.</p> + +<p>Alan had not seen this, looking straight to seaward at the ship and +skiff.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a>[pg +155]</span>"It maun be as it will!" said he, when I had told him. "Weel may +yon boatie row, or my craig'll have to thole a raxing."</p> + +<p>That part of the beach was long and flat, and excellent walking when the +tide was down; a little cressy burn flowed over it in one place to the sea; +and the sandhills ran along the head of it like the rampart of a town. No +eye of ours could spy what was passing behind there in the bents, no hurry +of ours could mend the speed of the boat's coming: time stood still with us +through that uncanny period of waiting.</p> + +<p>"There is one thing I would like to ken," says Alan. "I would like fine +to ken these gentry's orders. We're worth four hunner pound the pair of us: +how if they took the guns to us, Davie? They would get a bonny shot from +the top of that lang sandy bank."</p> + +<p>"Morally impossible," said I. "The point is that they can have no guns. +This thing has been gone about too secret; pistols they may have, but never +guns."</p> + +<p>"I believe ye'll be in the right," says Alan. "For all which I am +wearying a good deal for yon boat."</p> + +<p>And he snapped his fingers and whistled to it like a dog.</p> + +<p>It was now perhaps a third of the way in, and we ourselves already hard +on the margin of the sea, so that the soft sand rose over my shoes. There +was no more to do whatever but to wait, to look as much as we were <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a>[pg 156]</span>able at +the creeping nearer of the boat, and as little as we could manage at the +long impenetrable front of the sandhills, over which the gulls twinkled and +behind which our enemies were doubtless marshalling.</p> + +<p>"This is a fine, bright, caller place to get shot in," says Alan, +suddenly; "and, man, I wish that I had your courage!"</p> + +<p>"Alan!" I cried, "what kind of talk is this of it? You're just made of +courage; it's the character of the man, as I could prove myself if there +was nobody else."</p> + +<p>"And you would be the more mistaken," said he. "What makes the differ +with me is just my great penetration and knowledge of affairs. But for +auld, cauld, dour, deidly courage, I am not fit to hold a candle to +yourself. Look at us two here upon the sands. Here am I, fair hotching to +be off; here's you (for all that I ken) in two minds of it whether you'll +no stop. Do you think that I could do that, or would? No me! Firstly, +because I havenae got the courage and wouldnae daur; and secondly, because +I am a man of so much penetration and would see ye damned first."</p> + +<p>"It's there ye're coming, is it?" I cried. "Ah, man Alan, you can wile +your old wives, but you never can wile me."</p> + +<p>Remembrance of my temptation in the wood made me strong as iron.</p> + +<p>"I have a tryst to keep," I continued. "I am <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a>[pg 157]</span>trysted with your cousin +Charlie; I have passed my word."</p> + +<p>"Braw trysts that you'll can keep," said Alan. "Ye'll just mistryst +aince and for a' with the gentry in the bents. And what for?" he went on +with an extreme threatening gravity. "Just tell me that, my mannie! Are ye +to be speerited away like Lady Grange? Are they to drive a dirk in your +inside and bury ye in the bents? Or is it to be the other way, and are they +to bring ye in with James? Are they folk to be trustit? Would ye stick your +head in the mouth of Sim Fraser and the ither Whigs?" he added with +extraordinary bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Alan," cried I, "they're all rogues and liars, and I'm with ye there. +The more reason there should be one decent man in such a land of thieves! +My word is passed, and I'll stick to it. I said long syne to your kinswoman +that I would stumble at no risk. Do ye mind of that?--the night Red Colin +fell, it was. No more I will, then. Here I stop. Prestongrange promised me +my life; if he's to be mansworn, here I'll have to die."</p> + +<p>"Aweel, aweel," said Alan.</p> + +<p>All this time we had seen or heard no more of our pursuers. In truth we +had caught them unawares; their whole party (as I was to learn afterwards) +had not yet reached the scene; what there was of them was spread among the +bents towards Gillane. It was quite an affair to call them in and bring +them over, and the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" +id="Page_158"></a>[pg 158]</span>boat was making speed. They were besides +but cowardly fellows: a mere leash of Highland cattle thieves, of several +clans, no gentleman there to be the captain: and the more they looked at +Alan and me upon the beach, the less (I must suppose) they liked the looks +of us.</p> + +<p>Whoever had betrayed Alan it was not the captain: he was in the skiff +himself, steering and stirring up his oarsmen, like a man with his heart in +his employ. Already he was near in, and the boat scouring--already Alan's +face had flamed crimson with the excitement of his deliverance, when our +friends in the bents, either in despair to see their prey escape them or +with some hope of scaring Andie, raised suddenly a shrill cry of several +voices.</p> + +<p>This sound, arising from what appeared to be a quite deserted coast, was +really very daunting, and the men in the boat held water instantly.</p> + +<p>"What's this of it?" sings out the captain, for he was come within an +easy hail.</p> + +<p>"Freens o' mine," says Alan, and began immediately to wade forth in the +shallow water towards the boat. "Davie," he said, pausing, "Davie, are ye +no coming? I am swier to leave ye."</p> + +<p>"Not a hair of me," said I.</p> + +<p>He stood part of a second where he was to his knees in the salt water, +hesitating.</p> + +<p>"He that will to Cupar, maun to Cupar," said he, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a>[pg 159]</span>and +swashing in deeper than his waist, was hauled into the skiff, which was +immediately directed for the ship.</p> + +<p>I stood where he had left me, with my hands behind my back; Alan sat +with his head turned watching me; and the boat drew smoothly away. Of a +sudden I came the nearest hand to shedding tears, and seemed to myself the +most deserted, solitary lad in Scotland. With that I turned my back upon +the sea and faced the sand hills. There was no sight or sound of man; the +sun shone on the wet sand and the dry, the wind blew in the bents, the +gulls made a dreary piping. As I passed higher up the beach, the sand-lice +were hopping nimbly about the stranded tangles. The devil any other sight +or sound in that unchancy place. And yet I knew there were folk there, +observing me, upon some secret purpose. They were no soldiers, or they +would have fallen on and taken us ere now; doubtless they were some common +rogues hired for my undoing, perhaps to kidnap, perhaps to murder me +outright. From the position of those engaged, the first was the more +likely; from what I knew of their character and ardency in this business, I +thought the second very possible; and the blood ran cold about my +heart.</p> + +<p>I had a mad idea to loosen my sword in the scabbard; for though I was +very unfit to stand up like a gentleman blade to blade, I thought I could +do some scathe in a random combat. But I perceived in time the folly of +resistance. This was no doubt the joint "expedient" <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a>[pg 160]</span>on +which Prestongrange and Fraser were agreed. The first, I was very sure, had +done something to secure my life; the second was pretty likely to have +slipped in some contrary hints into the ears of Neil and his companions; +and if I were to show bare steel I might play straight into the hands of my +worst enemy and seal my own doom.</p> + +<p>These thoughts brought me to the head of the beach. I cast a look +behind, the boat was nearing the brig, and Alan flew his handkerchief for a +farewell, which I replied to with the waving of my hand. But Alan himself +was shrunk to a small thing in my view, alongside of this pass that lay in +front of me. I set my hat hard on my head, clenched my teeth, and went +right before me up the face of the sand-wreath. It made a hard climb, being +steep, and the sand like water underfoot. But I caught hold at last by the +long bent grass on the brae-top, and pulled myself to a good footing. The +same moment men stirred and stood up here and there, six or seven of them, +ragged-like knaves, each with a dagger in his hand. The fair truth is, I +shut my eyes and prayed. When I opened them again, the rogues were crept +the least thing nearer without speech or hurry. Every eye was upon mine, +which struck me with a strange sensation of their brightness, and of the +fear with which they continued to approach me. I held out my hands empty: +whereupon one asked, with a strong Highland brogue, if I surrendered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a>[pg +161]</span>"Under protest," said I, "if ye ken what that means, which I +misdoubt."</p> + +<p>At that word, they came all in upon me like a flight of birds upon a +carrion, seized me, took my sword, and all the money from my pockets, bound +me hand and foot with some strong line, and cast me on a tussock of bent. +There they sat about their captive in a part of a circle and gazed upon him +silently like something dangerous, perhaps a lion or a tiger on the spring. +Presently this attention was relaxed. They drew nearer together, fell to +speech in the Gaelic, and very cynically divided my property before my +eyes. It was my diversion in this time that I could watch from my place the +progress of my friend's escape. I saw the boat come to the brig and be +hoisted in, the sails fill, and the ship pass out seaward behind the isles +and by North Berwick.</p> + +<p>In the course of two hours or so, more and more ragged Highlandmen kept +collecting, Neil among the first, until the party must have numbered near a +score. With each new arrival there was a fresh bout of talk, that sounded +like complaints and explanations; but I observed one thing, none of those +that came late had any share in the division of my spoils. The last +discussion was very violent and eager, so that once I thought they would +have quarrelled; on the heels of which their company parted, the bulk of +them returning westward in a troop, and only three, Neil and two others, +remaining sentries on the prisoner.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a>[pg +162]</span>"I could name one who would be very ill pleased with your day's +work, Neil Duncanson," said I, when the rest had moved away.</p> + +<p>He assured me in answer I should be tenderly used, for he knew he was +"acquent wi' the leddy."</p> + +<p>This was all our talk, nor did any other son of man appear upon that +portion of the coast until the sun had gone down among the Highland +mountains, and the gloaming was beginning to grow dark. At which hour I was +aware of a long, lean, bony-like Lothian man of a very swarthy countenance, +that came towards us among the bents on a farm horse.</p> + +<p>"Lads," cried he, "hae ye a paper like this?" and held up one in his +hand. Neil produced a second, which the new comer studied through a pair of +horn spectacles, and saying all was right and we were the folk he was +seeking, immediately dismounted. I was then set in his place, my feet tied +under the horse's belly, and we set forth under the guidance of the +Lowlander. His path must have been very well chosen, for we met but one +pair--a pair of lovers--the whole way, and these, perhaps taking us to be +free-traders, fled on our approach. We were at one time close at the foot +of Berwick Law on the south side; at another, as we passed over some open +hills, I spied the lights of a clachan and the old tower of a church among +some trees not far off, but too far to cry for help, if I had dreamed of +it. At last we came again within sound of <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a>[pg 163]</span>the sea. There was +moonlight, though not much; and by this I could see the three huge towers +and broken battlements of Tantallon, that old chief place of the Red +Douglases. The horse was picketed in the bottom of the ditch to graze, and +I was led within, and forth into the court, and thence into a tumble-down +stone hall. Here my conductors built a brisk fire in the midst of the +pavement, for there was a chill in the night. My hands were loosed, I was +set by the wall in the inner end, and (the Lowlander having produced +provisions) I was given oatmeal bread and a pitcher of French brandy. This +done, I was left once more alone with my three Highlandmen. They sat close +by the fire drinking and talking; the wind blew in by the breaches, cast +about the smoke and flames, and sang in the tops of the towers; I could +hear the sea under the cliffs, and my mind being reassured as to my life, +and my body and spirits wearied with the day's employment, I turned upon +one side and slumbered.</p> + +<p>I had no means of guessing at what hour I was wakened, only the moon was +down and the fire low. My feet were now loosed, and I was carried through +the ruins and down the cliff-side by a precipitous path to where I found a +fisher's boat in a haven of the rocks. This I was had on board of, and we +began to put forth from the shore in a fine starlight.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a>[pg +164]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE BASS</h3> + + +<p>I had no thought where they were taking me; only looked here and there +for the appearance of a ship; and there ran the while in my head a word of +Ransome's--the <i>twenty-pounders</i>. If I were to be exposed a second +time to that same former danger of the plantations, I judged it must turn +ill with me; there was no second Alan, and no second shipwreck and spare +yard to be expected now; and I saw myself hoe tobacco under the whip's +lash. The thought chilled me; the air was sharp upon the water, the +stretchers of the boat drenched with a cold dew; and I shivered in my place +beside the steersman. This was the dark man whom I have called hitherto the +Lowlander; his name was Dale, ordinarily called Black Andie. Feeling the +thrill of my shiver, he very kindly handed me a rough jacket full of +fish-scales, with which I was glad to cover myself.</p> + +<p>"I thank you for this kindness," said I, "and will make so free as to +repay it with a warning. You take a high responsibility in this affair. You +are not like <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a>[pg +165]</span>these ignorant, barbarous Highlanders, but know what the law is +and the risks of those that break it."</p> + +<p>"I am no just exactly what ye would ca' an extremist for the law," says +he, "at the best of times; but in this business I act with a good +warranty."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with me?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Nae harm," said he, "nae harm ava'. Ye'll hae strong freens, I'm +thinking. Ye'll be richt eneuch yet."</p> + +<p>There began to fall a greyness on the face of the sea; little dabs of +pink and like coals of slow fire came in the east; and at the same time the +geese awakened, and began crying about the top of the Bass. It is just the +one crag of rock, as everybody knows, but great enough to carve a city +from. The sea was extremely little, but there went a hollow plowter round +the base of it. With the growing of the dawn I could see it clearer and +clearer; the straight crags painted with sea-birds' droppings like a +morning frost, the sloping top of it green with grass, the clan of white +geese that cried about the sides, and the black, broken buildings of the +prison sitting close on the sea's edge.</p> + +<p>At the sight the truth came in upon me in a clap.</p> + +<p>"It's there you're taking me!" I cried.</p> + +<p>"Just to the Bass, mannie," said he: "whaur the auld sants were afore +ye, and I misdoubt if ye have come so fairly by your preeson."</p> + +<p>"But none dwells there now," I cried; "the place is long a ruin."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a>[pg +166]</span>"It'll be the mair pleisand a change for the solan geese, then," +quoth Andie dryly.</p> + +<p>The day coming slowly brighter I observed on the bilge, among the big +stones with which fisherfolk ballast their boats, several kegs and baskets, +and a provision of fuel. All these were discharged upon the crag. Andie, +myself, and my three Highlanders (I call them mine, although it was the +other way about), landed along with them. The sun was not yet up when the +boat moved away again, the noise of the oars on the thole-pins echoing from +the cliffs, and left us in our singular reclusion.</p> + +<p>Andie Dale was the Prefect (as I would jocularly call him) of the Bass, +being at once the shepherd and the gamekeeper of that small and rich +estate. He had to mind the dozen or so of sheep that fed and fattened on +the grass of the sloping part of it, like beasts grazing the roof of a +cathedral. He had charge besides of the solan geese that roosted in the +crags; and from these an extraordinary income is derived. The young are +dainty eating, as much as two shillings a-piece being a common price, and +paid willingly by epicures; even the grown birds are valuable for their oil +and feathers; and a part of the minister's stipend of North Berwick is paid +to this day in solan geese, which makes it (in some folks' eyes) a parish +to be coveted. To perform these several businesses, as well as to protect +the geese from poachers, Andie had frequent occasion <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a>[pg 167]</span>to +sleep and pass days together on the crag; and we found the man at home +there like a farmer in his steading. Bidding us all shoulder some of the +packages, a matter in which I made haste to bear a hand, he led us in by a +locked gate, which was the only admission to the island, and through the +ruins of the fortress, to the governor's house. There we saw, by the ashes +in the chimney and a standing bed-place in one corner, that he made his +usual occupation.</p> + +<p>This bed he now offered me to use, saying he supposed I would set up to +be gentry.</p> + +<p>"My gentrice has nothing to do with where I lie," said I. "I bless God I +have lain hard ere now, and can do the same again with thankfulness. While +I am here, Mr. Andie, if that be your name, I will do my part and take my +place beside the rest of you; and I ask you on the other hand to spare me +your mockery, which I own I like ill."</p> + +<p>He grumbled a little at this speech, but seemed upon reflection to +approve it. Indeed, he was a long-headed, sensible man, and a good Whig and +Presbyterian; read daily in a pocket Bible, and was both able and eager to +converse seriously on religion, leaning more than a little towards the +Cameronian extremes. His morals were of a more doubtful colour. I found he +was deep in the free trade, and used the ruins of Tantallon for a magazine +of smuggled merchandise. As for a gauger, I do not believe he valued the +life of one at half-a-farthing. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" +id="Page_168"></a>[pg 168]</span>But that part of the coast of Lothian is +to this day as wild a place, and the commons there as rough a crew as any +in Scotland.</p> + +<p>One incident of my imprisonment is made memorable by a consequence it +had long after. There was a warship at this time stationed in the Firth, +the <i>Seahorse</i>, Captain Palliser. It chanced she was cruising in the +month of September, plying between Fife and Lothian, and sounding for sunk +dangers. Early one fine morning she was seen about two miles to east of us, +where she lowered a boat, and seemed to examine the Wildfire Rocks and +Satan's Bush, famous dangers of that coast. And presently, after having got +her boat again, she came before the wind and was headed directly for the +Bass. This was very troublesome to Andie and the Highlanders; the whole +business of my sequestration was designed for privacy, and here, with a +navy captain perhaps blundering ashore, it looked to become public enough, +if it were nothing worse. I was in a minority of one, I am no Alan to fall +upon so many, and I was far from sure that a warship was the least likely +to improve my condition. All which considered, I gave Andie my parole of +good behaviour and obedience, and was had briskly to the summit of the +rock, where we all lay down, at the cliff's edge, in different places of +observation and concealment. The <i>Seahorse</i> came straight on till I +thought she would have struck, and we (looking giddily down) could see the +ship's company at their <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" +id="Page_169"></a>[pg 169]</span>quarters and hear the leadsman singing at +the lead. Then she suddenly wore and let fly a volley of I know not how +many great guns. The rock was shaken with the thunder of the sound, the +smoke flowed over our heads, and the geese rose in number beyond +computation or belief. To hear their screaming and to see the twinkling of +their wings, made a most inimitable curiosity: and I suppose it was after +this somewhat childish pleasure that Captain Palliser had come so near the +Bass. He was to pay dear for it in time. During his approach I had the +opportunity to make a remark upon the rigging of that ship by which I ever +after knew it miles away; and this was a means (under Providence) of my +averting from a friend a great calamity, and inflicting on Captain Palliser +himself a sensible disappointment.</p> + +<p>All the time of my stay on the rock we lived well. We had small ale and +brandy, and oatmeal of which we made our porridge night and morning. At +times a boat came from the Castleton and brought us a quarter of mutton, +for the sheep upon the rock we must not touch, these being specially fed to +market. The geese were unfortunately out of season, and we let them be. We +fished ourselves, and yet more often made the geese to fish for us: +observing one when he had made a capture and scaring him from his prey ere +he had swallowed it.</p> + +<p>The strange nature of this place, and the curiosities with which it +abounded, held me busy and amused. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" +id="Page_170"></a>[pg 170]</span>Escape being impossible, I was allowed my +entire liberty, and continually explored the surface of the isle wherever +it might support the foot of man. The old garden of the prison was still to +be observed, with flowers and pot-herbs running wild, and some ripe +cherries on a bush. A little lower stood a chapel or a hermit's cell; who +built or dwelt in it, none may know, and the thought of its age made a +ground of many meditations. The prison too, where I now bivouacked with +Highland cattle thieves, was a place full of history, both human and +divine. I thought it strange so many saints and martyrs should have gone by +there so recently, and left not so much as a leaf out of their Bibles, or a +name carved upon the wall, while the rough soldier lads that mounted guard +upon the battlements had filled the neighbourhood with their +mementoes--broken tobacco-pipes for the most part, and that in a surprising +plenty, but also metal buttons from their coats. There were times when I +thought I could have heard the pious sound of psalms out of the martyrs' +dungeons, and seen the soldiers tramp the ramparts with their glinting +pipes, and the dawn rising behind them out of the North Sea.</p> + +<p>No doubt it was a good deal Andie and his tales that put these fancies +in my head. He was extraordinary well acquainted with the story of the rock +in all particulars, down to the names of private soldiers, his father +having served there in that same capacity. <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a>[pg 171]</span>He was gifted besides with +a natural genius for narration, so that the people seemed to speak and the +things to be done before your face. This gift of his and my assiduity to +listen brought us the more close together. I could not honestly deny but +what I liked him; I soon saw that he liked me; and indeed, from the first I +had set myself out to capture his good will. An odd circumstance (to be +told presently) effected this beyond my expectation; but even in early days +we made a friendly pair to be a prisoner and his gaoler.</p> + +<p>I should trifle with my conscience if I pretended my stay upon the Bass +was wholly disagreeable. It seemed to me a safe place, as though I was +escaped there out of my troubles. No harm was to be offered me; a material +impossibility, rock and the deep sea, prevented me from fresh attempts; I +felt I had my life safe and my honour safe, and there were times when I +allowed myself to gloat on them like stolen waters. At other times my +thoughts were very different. I recalled how strong I had expressed myself +both to Rankeillor and to Stewart; I reflected that my captivity upon the +Bass, in view of a great part of the coasts of Fife and Lothian, was a +thing I should be thought more likely to have invented than endured; and in +the eyes of these two gentlemen, at least, I must pass for a boaster and a +coward. Now I would take this lightly enough; tell myself that so <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a>[pg 172]</span>long as +I stood well with Catriona Drummond, the opinion of the rest of man was but +moonshine and spilled water; and thence pass off into those meditations of +a lover which are so delightful to himself and must always appear so +surprisingly idle to a reader. But anon the fear would take me otherwise; I +would be shaken with a perfect panic of self-esteem, and these supposed +hard judgments appear an injustice impossible to be supported. With that +another train of thought would be presented, and I had scarce begun to be +concerned about men's judgments of myself, than I was haunted with the +remembrance of James Stewart in his dungeon and the lamentations of his +wife. Then, indeed, passion began to work in me; I could not forgive myself +to sit there idle; it seemed (if I were a man at all) that I could fly or +swim out of my place of safety; and it was in such humours and to amuse my +self-reproaches that I would set the more particularly to win the good side +of Andie Dale.</p> + +<p>At last, when we two were alone on the summit of the rock on a bright +morning, I put in some hint about a bribe. He looked at me, cast back his +head, and laughed out loud.</p> + +<p>"Ay, you're funny, Mr. Dale," said I, "but perhaps if you glance an eye +upon that paper you may change your note."</p> + +<p>The stupid Highlanders had taken from me at the time of my seizure +nothing but hard money, and the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" +id="Page_173"></a>[pg 173]</span>paper I now showed Andie was an +acknowledgment from the British Linen Company for a considerable sum.</p> + +<p>He read it. "Troth, and ye're nane sae ill aff," said he.</p> + +<p>"I thought that would maybe vary your opinions," said I.</p> + +<p>"Hout!" said he. "It shaws me ye can bribe; but I'm no to be +bribit."</p> + +<p>"We'll see about that yet a while," says I. "And first, I'll show you +that I know what I am talking. You have orders to detain me here till +Thursday, 21st September."</p> + +<p>"Ye're no a'thegether wrong either," says Andie. "I'm to let ye gang, +bar orders contrair, on Saturday, the 23rd."</p> + +<p>I could not but feel there was something extremely insidious in this +arrangement. That I was to reappear precisely in time to be too late would +cast the more discredit on my tale, if I were minded to tell one; and this +screwed me to fighting point.</p> + +<p>"Now then, Andie, you that kens the world, listen to me, and think while +ye listen," said I. "I know there are great folks in the business, and I +make no doubt you have their names to go upon. I have seen some of them +myself since this affair began, and said my say into their faces too. But +what kind of a crime would this be that I had committed? or what kind of a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a>[pg +174]</span>process is this that I am fallen under? To be apprehended by +some ragged John-Hielandmen on August 30th, carried to a rickle of old +stones that is now neither fort nor gaol (whatever it once was) but just +the gamekeeper's lodge of the Bass Rock, and set free again, September 23d, +as secretly as I was first arrested--does that sound like law to you? or +does it sound like justice? or does it not sound honestly like a piece of +some low dirty intrigue, of which the very folk that meddle with it are +ashamed?"</p> + +<p>"I canna gainsay ye, Shaws. It looks unco underhand," says Andie. "And +werenae the folk guid sound Whigs and true-blue Presbyterians I would hae +seen them ayont Jordan and Jeroozlem or I would have set hand to it."</p> + +<p>"The Master of Lovat'll be a braw Whig," says I, "and a grand +Presbyterian."</p> + +<p>"I ken naething by him," said he. "I hae nae trokings wi' Lovats."</p> + +<p>"No, it'll be Prestongrange that you'll be dealing with," said I.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but I'll no tell ye that," said Andie.</p> + +<p>"Little need when I ken," was my retort.</p> + +<p>"There's just the ae thing ye can be fairly sure of, Shaws," says Andie. +"And that is that (try as ye please) I'm no dealing wi' yoursel'; nor yet I +amnae goin' to," he added.</p> + +<p>"Well, Andie, I see I'll have to be speak out plain <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a>[pg 175]</span>with +you," I replied. And I told him so much as I thought needful of the +facts.</p> + +<p>He heard me out with serious interest, and when I had done, seemed to +consider a little with himself.</p> + +<p>"Shaws," said he at last, "I deal with the naked hand. It's a queer +tale, and no vary creditable, the way you tell it; and I'm far frae minting +that is other than the way that ye believe it. As for yoursel', ye seems to +me rather a dacent-like young man. But me, that's aulder and mair +judeecious, see perhaps a wee bit further forrit in the job than what ye +can dae. And here is the maitter clear and plain to ye. There'll be nae +skaith to yoursel' if I keep ye here; far frae that, I think ye'll be a +hantle better by it. There'll be nae skaith to the kintry--just ae mair +Hielantman hangit--Gude kens, a guid riddance! On the ither hand it would +be considerable skaith to me if I would let you free. Sae, speakin' as a +guid Whig, an honest freen' to you, and an anxious freen' to my ainsel', +the plain fact is that I think ye'll just have to bide here wi' Andie an' +the solans."</p> + +<p>"Andie," said I, laying my hand upon his knee, "this Hielantman's +innocent."</p> + +<p>"Ay, it's a peety about that," said he. "But ye see in this warld, the +way God made it, we cannae just get a'thing that we want."</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a>[pg +176]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XV'></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>BLACK ANDIE'S TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK</h3> + + +<p>I have yet said little of the Highlanders. They were all three of the +followers of James More, which bound the accusation very tight about their +master's neck. All understood a word or two of English; but Neil was the +only one who judged he had enough of it for general converse, in which +(when once he got embarked) his company was often tempted to the contrary +opinion. They were tractable, simple creatures; showed much more courtesy +than might have been expected from their raggedness and their uncouth +appearance, and fell spontaneously to be like three servants for Andie and +myself.</p> + +<p>Dwelling in that isolated place, in the old falling ruins of a prison, +and among endless strange sounds of the sea and the sea-birds, I thought I +perceived in them early the effects of superstitious fear. When there was +nothing doing they would either lie and sleep, for which their appetite +appeared insatiable, or Neil would entertain the others with stories which +seemed always of a terrifying strain. If neither of these delights were +within reach--if perhaps two were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" +id="Page_177"></a>[pg 177]</span>sleeping and the third could find no means +to follow their example--I would see him sit and listen and look about him +in a progression of uneasiness, starting, his face blenching, his hands +clutched, a man strung like a bow. The nature of these fears I had never an +occasion to find out, but the sight of them was catching, and the nature of +the place that we were in favourable to alarms. I can find no word for it +in the English, but Andie had an expression for it in the Scots from which +he never varied.</p> + +<p>"Ay," he would say, "<i>it's an unco place, the Bass</i>." It is so I +always think of it. It was an unco place by night, unco by day; and these +were unco sounds, of the calling of the solans, and the plash of the sea +and the rock echoes, that hung continually in our ears. It was chiefly so +in moderate weather. When the waves were anyway great they roared about the +rock like thunder and the drums of armies, dreadful but merry to hear; and +it was in the calm days that a man could daunt himself with listening--not +a Highlandman only, as I several times experimented on myself, so many +still, hollow noises haunted and reverberated in the porches of the +rock.</p> + +<p>This brings me to a story I heard, and a scene I took part in, which +quite changed our terms of living, and had a great effect on my departure. +It chanced one night I fell in a muse beside the fire and (that little air +of Alan's coming back to my memory) began <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a>[pg 178]</span>to whistle. A hand was +laid upon my arm, and the voice of Neil bade me to stop, for it was not +"canny musics."</p> + +<p>"Not canny?" I asked. "How can that be?"</p> + +<p>"Na," said he; "it will be made by a bogle and her wanting ta heid upon +his body."<sup><a href="#fn13" name="rfn13">[13]</a></sup></p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "there can be no bogles here, Neil; for it's not likely +they would fash themselves to frighten solan geese."</p> + +<p>"Ay?" says Andie, "is that what ye think of it? But I'll can tell ye +there's been waur nor bogles here."</p> + +<p>"What's waur than bogles, Andie?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Warlocks," said he. "Or a warlock at the least of it. And that's a +queer tale, too," he added. "And if ye would like, I'll tell it ye."</p> + +<p>To be sure we were all of the one mind, and even the Highlander that had +the least English of the three set himself to listen with all his +might.</p> + + +<h4>THE TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK</h4> + +<p>My faither, Tam Dale, peace to his banes, was a wild, sploring lad in +his young days, wi' little wisdom and <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a>[pg 179]</span>less grace. He was fond of +a lass and fond of a glass, and fond of a ran-dan; but I could never hear +tell that he was muckle use for honest employment. Frae ae thing to +anither, he listed at last for a sodger and was in the garrison of this +fort, which was the first way that ony of the Dales cam to set foot upon +the Bass. Sorrow upon that service! The governor brewed his ain ale; it +seems it was the warst conceivable. The rock was proveesioned frae the +shore with vivers, the thing was ill-guided, and there were whiles when +they but to fish and shoot solans for their diet. To crown a', thir was the +Days of the Persecution. The perishin' cauld chalmers were all occupeed wi' +sants and martyrs, the saut of the yearth, of which it wasnae worthy. And +though Tam Dale carried a firelock there, a single sodger, and liked a lass +and a glass, as I was sayin', the mind of the man was mair just than set +with his position. He had glints of the glory of the kirk; there were +whiles when his dander rase to see the Lord's sants misguided, and shame +covered him that he should be haulding a can'le (or carrying a firelock) in +so black a business. There were nights of it when he was here on sentry, +the place a' wheesht, the frosts o' winter maybe riving in the wa's, and he +would hear are o' the prisoners strike up a psalm, and the rest join in, +and the blessed sounds rising from the different chalmers--or dungeons, I +would raither say--so that this auld craig in the sea was like a pairt of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a>[pg +180]</span>Heev'n. Black shame was on his saul; his sins hove up before him +muckle as the Bass, and above a', that chief sin, that he should have a +hand in hagging and hashing at Christ's Kirk. But the truth is that he +resisted the spirit. Day cam, there were the rousing companions, and his +guid resolves depairtit.</p> + +<p>In thir days, dwalled upon the Bass a man of God, Peden the Prophet was +his name. Ye'll have heard tell of Prophet Peden. There was never the wale +of him sinsyne, and it's a question wi' mony if there ever was his like +afore. He was wild 's a peat-hag, fearsome to look at, fearsome to hear, +his face like the day of judgment. The voice of him was like a solan's and +dinnle'd in folks' lugs, and the words of him like coals of fire.</p> + +<p>Now there was a lass on the rock, and I think she had little to do, for +it was nae place far dacent weemen; but it seems she was bonny, and her and +Tam Dale were very well agreed. It befell that Peden was in the gairden his +lane at the praying when Tam and the lass cam by; and what should the +lassie do but mock with laughter at the sant's devotions? He rose and +lookit at the twa o' them, and Tam's knees knoitered thegether at the look +of him. But whan he spak, it was mair in sorrow than in anger. "Poor thing, +poor thing!" says he, and it was the lass he lookit at. "I hear you skirl +and laugh," he says, "but the Lord has a deid shot prepared for you, and at +that surprising judgment <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" +id="Page_181"></a>[pg 181]</span>ye shall skirl but the ae time!" Shortly +thereafter she was daundering on the craigs wi' twa-three sodgers, and it +was a blawy day. There cam a gowst of wind, claught her by the coats, and +awa' wi' her bag and baggage. And it was remarked by the sodgers that she +gied but the ae skirl.</p> + +<p>Nae doubt this judgment had some weicht upon Tam Dale; but it passed +again and him none the better. Ae day he was flyting wi' anither +sodger-lad. "Deil hae me!" quo' Tam, for he was a profane swearer. And +there was Peden glowering at him, gash an' waefu'; Peden wi' his lang +chafts an' luntin' een, the maud happed about his kist, and the hand of him +held out wi' the black nails upon the finger-nebs--for he had nae care of +the body. "Fy, fy, poor man!" cries he, "the poor fool man! <i>Deil hae +me</i>, quo' he; an' I see the deil at his oxter." The conviction of guilt +and grace cam in on Tam like the deep sea; he flang doun the pike that was +in his hands--"I will nae mair lift arms against the cause o' Christ!" says +he, and was as gude's word. There was a sair fyke in the beginning, but the +governor, seeing him resolved, gied him his dischairge, and he went and +dwallt and merried in North Berwick, and had aye a gude name with honest +folk frae that day on.</p> + +<p>It was in the year seeventeen hunner and sax that the Bass cam in the +hands o' the Da'rymples, and there was twa men soucht the chairge of it. +Baith were weel <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" +id="Page_182"></a>[pg 182]</span>qualified, for they had baith been sodgers +in the garrison, and kent the gate to handle solans, and the seasons and +values of them. Forby that they were baith--or they baith seemed--earnest +professors and men of comely conversation. The first of them was just Tam +Dale, my faither. The second was ane Lapraik, whom the folk ca'd Tod +Lapraik maistly, but whether for his name or his nature I could never hear +tell. Weel, Tam gaed to see Lapraik upon this business, and took me, that +was a toddlin' laddie, by the hand. Tod had his dwallin' in the lang loan +benorth the kirkyaird. It's a dark uncanny loan, forby that the kirk has +aye had an ill name since the days o' James the Saxt and the deevil's +cantrips played therein when the Queen was on the seas; and as for Tod's +house, it was in the mirkest end, and was little liked by some that kenned +the best. The door was on the sneck that day, and me and my faither gaed +straucht in. Tod was a wabster to his trade; his loom stood in the but. +There he sat, a muckle fat, white hash of a man like creish, wi' a kind of +a holy smile that gart me scunner. The hand of him aye cawed the shuttle, +but his een was steeked. We cried to him by his name, we skirled in the +deid lug of him, we shook him by the shou'ther. Nae mainner o' service! +There he sat on his dowp, an' cawed the shuttle and smiled like creish.</p> + +<p>"God be guid to us," says Tam Dale, "this is no canny!"</p> + + + +<a name="balfour005"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour005.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: THERE HE SAT, A MUCKLE FAT, WHITE HASH OF A +MAN LIKE CREISH" src="images/balfour005sm.jpg" height="546" width="380" /></a> +<br />THERE HE SAT, A MUCKLE +FAT, WHITE HASH OF A MAN LIKE CREISH + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a>[pg +183]</span>He had jimp said the word, when Tod Lapraik cam to himsel'.</p> + +<p>"Is this you, Tam?" says he. "Haith, man! I'm blythe to see ye. I whiles +fa' into a bit dwam like this," he says; "it's frae the stamach."</p> + +<p>Weel, they began to crack about the Bass and which of them twa was to +get the warding o't, and by little and little cam to very ill words, and +twined in anger. I mind weel, that as my faither and me gaed hame again, he +cam ower and ower the same expression, how little he likit Tod Lapraik and +his dwams.</p> + +<p>"Dwam!" says he. "I think folk hae brunt far dwams like yon."</p> + +<p>Aweel, my faither got the Bass and Tod had to go wantin'. It was +remembered sinsyne what way he had ta'en the thing. "Tam," says he, "ye hae +gotten the better o'me aince mair, and I hope," says he, "ye'll find at +least a' that ye expeckit at the Bass." Which have since been thought +remarkable expressions. At last the time came for Tam Dale to take young +solans. This was a business he was weel used wi', he had been a craigsman +frae a laddie, and trustit nane but himsel'. So there was he hingin' by a +line an' speldering on the craig face, whaur it's hieest and steighest. +Fower tenty lads were on the tap, hauldin' the line and mindin' for his +signals. But whaur Tam hung there was naething but the craig, and the sea +belaw, and the solans skirling and flying. It was a braw spring morn, and +Tam <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a>[pg +184]</span>whustled as he claught in the young geese. Mony's the time I +heard him tell of this experience, and aye the swat ran upon the man.</p> + +<p>It chanced, ye see, that Tam keeked up, and he was awaur of a muckle +solan, and the solan pyking at the line. He thocht this by-ordinar and +outside the creature's habits. He minded that ropes was unco saft things, +and the solan's neb and the Bass Rock unco hard, and that twa hunner feet +were raither mair than he would care to fa'.</p> + +<p>"Shoo!" says Tam. "Awa', bird! Shoo, awa' wi' ye!" says he.</p> + +<p>The solan keekit doun into Tam's face, and there was something unco in +the creature's ee. Just the ae keek it gied, and back to the rope. But now +it wroucht and warstl't like a thing dementit. There never was the solan +made that wroucht as that solan wroucht; and it seemed to understand it's +employ brawly, birzing the saft rope between the neb of it and a crunkled +jag o' stane.</p> + +<p>There gaed a cauld stend o' fear into Tam's heart. "This thing is nae +bird," thinks he. His een turnt backward in his heid and the day gaed black +about him. "If I get a dwam here," he thoucht, "it's by wi' Tam Dale." And +he signalled for the lads to pu' him up.</p> + +<p>And it seemed the solan understood about signals. For nae sooner was the +signal made than he let be the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" +id="Page_185"></a>[pg 185]</span>rope, spried his wings, squawked out loud, +took a turn flying, and dashed straucht at Tam Dale's een. Tam had a knife, +he gart the cauld steel glitter. And it seemed the solan understood about +knives, for nae suner did the steel glint in the sun than he gied the ae +squawk, but laigher, like a body disappointit, and flegged aff about the +roundness of the craig, and Tam saw him nae mair. And as sune as that thing +was gane, Tam's held drapt upon his shouther, and they pu'd him up like a +deid corp, dadding on the craig.</p> + +<p>A dram of brandy (which he went never without) broucht him to his mind, +or what was left of it. Up he sat.</p> + +<p>"Rin, Geordie, rin to the boat, mak' sure of the boat, man--rin!" he +cries, "or yon solan 'll have it awa'," says he.</p> + +<p>The fower lads stared at ither, an' tried to whilly-wha him to be quiet. +But naething, would satisfy Tam Dale, till ane o' them had startit on aheid +to stand sentry on the boat. The ithers askit if he was for down again.</p> + +<p>"Na," says he, "and niether you nor me," says he, "and as sune as I can +win to stand on my twa feet we'll be aff frae this craig o' Sawtan."</p> + +<p>Sure eneuch, nae time was lost, and that was ower muckle; for before +they won to North Berwick Tam was in a crying fever. He lay a' the simmer; +and wha was sae kind as come speiring for him, but Tod <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a>[pg +186]</span>Lapraik! Folk thocht afterwards that ilka time Tod cam near the +house the fever had worsened. I kenna for that; but what I ken the best, +that was the end of it.</p> + +<p>It was about this time o' the year; my grandfaither was out at the white +fishing; and like a bairn, I but to gang wi' him. We had a grand take, I +mind, and the way that the fish lay broucht us near in by the Bass, whaur +we forgaithered wi' anither boat that belanged to a man Sandie Fletcher in +Castleton. He's no lang deid niether, or ye could spier at himsel'. Weel, +Sandie hailed.</p> + +<p>"What's yon on the Bass?" says he.</p> + +<p>"On the Bass?" says grandfaither.</p> + +<p>"Ay," says Sandie, "on the green side o't."</p> + +<p>"Whatten kind of a thing?" says grandfaither. "There cannae be naething +on the Bass but just the sheep."</p> + +<p>"It looks unco like a body," quo' Sandie, who was nearer in.</p> + +<p>"A body!" says we, and we nane of us likit that. For there was nae boat +that could have broucht a man, and the key o' the prison yett hung ower my +faither's held at hame in the press bed.</p> + +<p>We keept the twa boats closs for company, and crap in nearer hand. +Grandfaither had a gless, for he had been a sailor, and the captain of a +smack, and had lost her on the sands of Tay. And when we took the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a>[pg 187]</span>gless +to it, sure eneuch there was a man. He was in a crunkle o' green brae, a +wee below the chaipel, a' by his lee lane, and lowped and flang and danced +like a daft quean at a waddin'.</p> + +<p>"It's Tod," says grandfaither, and passed the gless to Sandie.</p> + +<p>"Ay, it's him," says Sandie.</p> + +<p>"Or ane in the likeness o' him,'' says grandfaither.</p> + +<p>"Sma' is the differ," quo' Sandie. "De'il or warlock, I'll try the gun +at him," quo' he, and broucht up a fowling-piece that he aye carried, for +Sandie was a notable famous shot in all that country.</p> + +<p>"Haud your hand, Sandie," says grandfaither; "we maun see clearer +first," says he, "or this may be a dear day's wark to the baith of us."</p> + +<p>"Hout!" says Sandie, "this is the Lord's judgments surely, and be damned +to it!" says he.</p> + +<p>"Maybe ay, and maybe no," says my grandfaither, worthy man! "But have +you a mind of the Procurator Fiscal, that I think ye'll have forgaithered +wi' before," says he.</p> + +<p>This was ower true, and Sandie was a wee thing set ajee. "Aweel, Edie," +says he, "and what would be your way of it?"</p> + +<p>"Ou, just this," says grandfaither. "Let me that has the fastest boat +gang back to North Berwick, and let you bide here and keep an eye on Thon. +If I cannae find Lapraik, I'll join ye and the twa of us'll <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a>[pg 188]</span>have a +crack wi' him. But if Lapraik's at hame, I'll rin up the flag at the +harbour, and ye can try Thon Thing wi' the gun."</p> + +<p>Aweel, so it was agreed between them twa. I was just a bairn, an' clum +in Sandie's boat, whaur I thoucht I would see the best of the employ. My +grandsire gied Sandie a siller tester to pit in his gun wi' the leid draps, +bein' mair deidly again bogles. And then the ae boat set aff for North +Berwick, an' the tither lay whaur it was and watched the wanchancy thing on +the braeside.</p> + +<p>A' the time we lay there it lowped and flang and capered and span like a +teetotum, and whiles we could hear it skelloch as it span. I hae seen +lassies, the daft queans, that would lowp and dance a winter's nicht, and +still be lowping and dancing when the winter's day cam in. But there would +be folk there to hauld them company, and the lads to egg them on; and this +thing was its lee-lane. And there would be a fiddler diddling his elbock in +the chimney-side; and this thing had nae music but the skirling of the +solans. And the lassies were bits o' young things wi' the reid life +dinnling and stending in their members; and this was a muckle, fat, crieshy +man, and him fa'n in the vale o' years. Say what ye like, I maun say what I +believe. It was joy was in the creature's heart; the joy o' hell, I +daursay: joy whatever. Mony a time I have askit mysel', why witches and +warlocks should <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" +id="Page_189"></a>[pg 189]</span>sell their sauls (whilk are their maist +dear possessions) and be auld, duddy, wrunkl't wives or auld, feckless, +doddered men; and then I mind upon Tod Lapraik dancing a' they hours by his +lane in the black glory of his heart. Nae doubt they burn for it in muckle +hell, but they have a grand time here of it, whatever!--and the Lord forgie +us!</p> + +<p>Weel, at the hinder end, we saw the wee flag yirk up to the mast-held +upon the harbour rocks. That was a' Sandie waited for. He up wi' the gun, +took a deleeberate aim, an' pu'd the trigger. There cam' a bang and then ae +waefu' skirl frae the Bass. And there were we rubbin' our een and lookin' +at ither like daft folk. For wi' the bang and the skirl the thing had clean +disappeared. The sun glintit, the wund blew, and there was the bare yaird +whaur the Wonder had been lowping and flinging but ae second syne.</p> + +<p>The hale way hame I roared and grat wi' the terror of that dispensation. +The grawn folk were nane sae muckle better; there was little said in +Sandie's boat but just the name of God; and when we won in by the pier, the +harbour rocks were fair black wi' the folk waitin' us. It seems they had +fund Lapraik in ane of his dwams, cawing the shuttle and smiling. Ae lad +they sent to hoist the flag, and the rest abode there in the wabster's +house. You may be sure they liked it little; but it was a means of grace to +severals that stood there praying in to themsel's (for nane cared to pray +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a>[pg +190]</span>out loud) and looking on thon awesome thing as it cawed the +shuttle. Syne, upon a suddenty, and wi' the ae driedfu' skelloch, Tod +sprang up frae his hinderlands and fell forrit on the wab, a bluidy +corp.</p> + +<p>When the corp was examined the leid draps hadnae played buff upon the +warlock's body; sorrow a leid drap was to be fund; but there was +grandfather's siller tester in the puddock's heart of him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Andie had scarce done when there befell a mighty silly affair that had +its consequence. Neil, as I have said, was himself a great narrator. I have +heard since that he knew all the stories in the Highlands; and thought much +of himself, and was thought much of by others, on the strength of it. Now +Andie's tale reminded him of one he had already heard.</p> + +<p>"She would ken that story afore," he said. "She was the story of Uistean +More M'Gillie Phadrig and the Gavar Vore."</p> + +<p>"It is no sic a thing," cried Andie. "It is the story of my faither (now +wi' God) and Tod Lapraik. And the same in your beard," says he; "and keep +the tongue of ye inside your Hielant chafts!"</p> + +<p>In dealing with Highlanders it will be found, and has been shown in +history, how well it goes with Lowland gentlefolk; but the thing appears +scarce feasible for Lowland commons. I had already remarked that Andie was +continually on the point of quarrelling with <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a>[pg 191]</span>our three Macgregors, and +now, sure enough, it was to come.</p> + +<p>"Thir will be no words to use to shentlemans," says Neil.</p> + +<p>"Shentlemans!" cries Andie. "Shentlemans, ye hielant stot! If God would +give ye the grace to see yoursel' the way that ithers see ye, ye would +throw your denner up."</p> + +<p>There came some kind of a Gaelic oath from Neil, and the black knife was +in his hand that moment.</p> + +<p>There was no time to think; and I caught the Highlander by the leg, and +had him down, and his armed hand pinned out, before I knew what I was +doing. His comrades sprang to rescue him, Andie and I were without weapons, +the Gregara three to two. It seemed we were beyond salvation, when Neil +screamed in his own tongue, ordering the others back, and made his +submission to myself in a manner the most abject, even giving me up his +knife which (upon a repetition of his promises) I returned to him on the +morrow.</p> + +<p>Two things I saw plain: the first, that I must not build too high on +Andie, who had shrunk against the wall and stood there, as pale as death, +till the affair was over; the second, the strength of my own position with +the Highlanders, who must have received extraordinary charges to be tender +of my safety. But if I thought Andie came not very well out in courage, I +had no fault to find with him upon the account of gratitude. It <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a>[pg 192]</span>was not +so much that he troubled me with thanks, as that his whole mind and manner +appeared changed; and as he preserved ever after a great timidity of our +companions, he and I were yet more constantly together.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a>[pg +193]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XVI'></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE MISSING WITNESS</h3> + + +<p>On the seventeenth, the day I was trysted with the Writer, I had much +rebellion against fate. The thought of him waiting in the <i>King's +Arms</i>, and of what he would think, and what he would say when next we +met, tormented and oppressed me. The truth was unbelievable, so much I had +to grant, and it seemed cruel hard I should be posted as a liar and a +coward, and have never consciously omitted what it was possible that I +should do. I repeated this form of words with a kind of bitter relish, and +re-examined in that light the steps of my behaviour. It seemed I had +behaved to James Stewart as a brother might; all the past was a picture +that I could be proud of, and there was only the present to consider. I +could not swim the sea, nor yet fly in the air, but there was always Andie. +I had done him a service, he liked me; I had a lever there to work on; if +it were just for decency, I must try once more with Andie.</p> + +<p>It was late afternoon; there was no sound in all the Bass but the lap +and bubble of a very quiet sea; and my four companions were all crept +apart, the three <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" +id="Page_194"></a>[pg 194]</span>Macgregors higher on the rock, and Andie +with his Bible to a sunny place among the ruins; there I found him in deep +sleep, and, as soon as he was awake, appealed to him with some fervour of +manner and a good show of argument.</p> + +<p>"If I thoucht it was to do guid to ye, Shaws!" said he, staring at me +over his spectacles.</p> + +<p>"It's to save another," said I, "and to redeem my word. What would be +more good than that? Do ye no mind the scripture, Andie? And you with the +Book upon your lap! <i>What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole +world?"</i></p> + +<p>"Ay," said he, "that's grand for you. But where do I come in? I have my +word to redeem the same's yoursel'. And what are ye asking me to do, but +just to sell it ye for siller?"</p> + +<p>"Andie! have I named the name of siller?" cried I.</p> + +<p>"Ou, the name's naething," said he; "the thing is there, whatever. It +just comes to this; if I am to service ye the way that you propose, I'll +loss my lieihood. Then it's clear ye'll have to make it up to me, and a +pickle mair, for your ain credit like. And what's that but just a bribe? +And if even I was certain of the bribe! But by a' that I can learn, it's +far frae that; and if <i>you</i> were to hang, where would <i>I</i> be? Na: +the thing's no possible. And just awa' wi' ye like a bonny lad! and let +Andie read his chapter."</p> + +<p>I remember I was at bottom a good deal gratified with <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a>[pg 195]</span>this +result; and the next humour I fell into was one (I had near said) of +gratitude to Prestongrange, who had saved me, in this violent, illegal +manner, out of the midst of my dangers, temptations, and perplexities. But +this was both too flimsy and too cowardly to last me long, and the +remembrance of James began to succeed to the possession of my spirits. The +21st, the day set for the trial, I passed in such misery of mind as I can +scarce recall to have endured, save perhaps upon Isle Earraid only. Much of +the time I lay on a braeside betwixt sleep and waking, my body motionless, +my mind full of violent thoughts. Sometimes I slept indeed; but the +court-house of Inverary and the prisoner glancing on all sides to find his +missing witness, followed me in slumber; and I would wake again with a +start to darkness of spirit and distress of body. I thought Andie seemed to +observe me, but I paid him little heed. Verily, my bread was bitter to me, +and my days a burthen.</p> + +<p>Early the next morning (Friday, 22nd) a boat came with provisions, and +Andie placed a packet in my hand. The cover was without address but sealed +with a Government seal. It enclosed two notes. "Mr. Balfour can now see for +himself it is too late to meddle. His conduct will be observed and his +discretion rewarded." So ran the first, which seemed to be laboriously writ +with the left hand. There was certainly nothing in these expressions to +compromise the writer, even if that <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a>[pg 196]</span>person could be found; the +seal, which formidably served instead of signature, was affixed to a +separate sheet on which there was no scratch of writing; and I had to +confess that (so far) my adversaries knew what they were doing, and to +digest as well as I was able the threat that peeped under the promise.</p> + +<p>But the second enclosure was by far the more surprising. It was in a +lady's hand of writ. "<i>Maister Dauvit Balfour is informed a friend was +speiring for him, and her eyes were of the grey</i>," it ran--and seemed so +extraordinary a piece to come to my hands at such a moment and under cover +of a Government seal, that I stood stupid. Catriona's grey eyes shone in my +remembrance. I thought, with a bound of pleasure, she must be the friend. +But who should the writer be, to have her billet thus enclosed with +Prestongrange's? And of all wonders, why was it thought needful to give me +this pleasing but most inconsequential intelligence upon the Bass? For the +writer, I could hit upon none possible except Miss Grant. Her family, I +remembered, had remarked on Catriona's eyes and even named her for their +colour; and she herself had been much in the habit to address me with a +broad pronunciation, by way of a sniff, I supposed, at my rusticity. No +doubt, besides, but she lived in the same house as this letter came from. +So there remained but one step to be accounted for; and that was how +Prestongrange should have permitted her at all in an affair so secret, or +let <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a>[pg +197]</span>her daft-like billet go in the same cover with his own. But even +here I had a glimmering. For, first of all, there was something rather +alarming about the young lady, and papa might be more under her domination +than I knew. And second, there was the man's continual policy to be +remembered, how his conduct had been continually mingled with caresses, and +he had scarce ever, in the midst of so much contention, laid aside a mask +of friendship. He must conceive that my imprisonment had incensed me. +Perhaps this little jesting, friendly message was intended to disarm my +rancour?</p> + +<p>I will be honest--and I think it did. I felt a sudden warmth towards +that beautiful Miss Grant, that she should stoop to so much interest in my +affairs. The summoning up of Catriona moved me of itself to milder and more +cowardly counsels. If the Advocate knew of her and of our acquaintance--if +I should please him by some of that "discretion" at which his letter +pointed--to what might not this lead? <i>In vain is the net spread in the +sight of any fowl</i>, the scripture says. Well, fowls must be wiser than +folk! For I thought I perceived the policy, and yet fell in with it.</p> + +<p>I was in this frame, my heart beating, the grey eyes plain before me +like two stars, when Andie broke in upon my musing.</p> + +<p>"I see ye hae gotten guid news," said he.</p> + +<p>I found him looking curiously in my face; with that, there came before +me like a vision of James Stewart and <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a>[pg 198]</span>the court of Inverary; and +my mind turned at once like a door upon its hinges. Trials, I reflected, +sometimes draw out longer than is looked for. Even if I came to Inverary +just too late, something might yet be attempted in the interests of +James--and in those of my own character, the best would be accomplished. In +a moment, it seemed without thought, I had a plan devised.</p> + +<p>"Andie," said I, "is it still to be to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>He told me nothing was changed.</p> + +<p>"Was anything said about the hour?" I asked.</p> + +<p>He told me it was to be two o'clock afternoon.</p> + +<p>"And about the place?" I pursued.</p> + +<p>"Whatten place?" says Andie.</p> + +<p>"The place I'm to be landed at," said I.</p> + +<p>He owned there was nothing as to that.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," I said, "this shall be mine to arrange. The wind is +in the east, my road lies westward; keep your boat, I hire it; let us work +up the Forth all day; and land me at two o'clock to-morrow at the westmost +we'll can have reached."</p> + +<p>"Ye daft callant!" he cried, "ye would try for Inverary after a'!"</p> + +<p>"Just that, Andie," says I.</p> + +<p>"Weel, ye're ill to beat!" says he. "And I was kind o' sorry for ye a' +day yesterday," he added. "Ye see, I was never entirely sure till then, +which way of it ye really wantit."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a>[pg +199]</span>Here was a spur to a lame horse!</p> + +<p>"A word in your ear, Andie," said I. "This plan of mine has another +advantage yet. We can leave these Hielandmen behind us on the rock, and one +of your boats from the Castleton can bring them off to-morrow. Yon Neil has +a queer eye when he regards you; maybe, if I was once out of the gate there +might be knives again; these red-shanks are unco grudgeful. And if there +should come to be any question, here is your excuse. Our lives were in +danger by these savages; being answerable for my safety, you chose the part +to bring me from their neighbourhood and detain me the rest of the time on +board your boat; and do you know, Andie?" says I, with a smile, "I think it +was very wisely chosen."</p> + +<p>"The truth is I have nae goo for Neil," says Andie, "nor he for me, I'm +thinking; and I would like ill to come to my hands wi' the man. Tam Anster +will make a better hand of it with the cattle onyway." (For this man, +Anster, came from Fife, where the Gaelic is still spoken.) "Ay, ay!" says +Andie, "Tam'll can deal with them the best. And troth! the mair I think of +it, the less I see what way we would be required. The place--ay, feggs! +they had forgot the place. Eh, Shaws, ye're a lang-heided chield when ye +like! Forby that I'm awing ye my life," he added, with more solemnity, and +offered me his hand upon the bargain.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a>[pg +200]</span>Whereupon, with scarce more words, we stepped suddenly on board +the boat, cast off, and set the lug. The Gregara were then busy upon +breakfast, for the cookery was their usual part; but, one of them stepping +to the battlements, our flight was observed before we were twenty fathoms +from the rock; and the three of them ran about the ruins and the +landing-shelf, for all the world like ants about a broken nest, hailing and +crying on us to return. We were still in both the lee and the shadow of the +rock, which last lay broad upon the waters, but presently came forth in +almost the same moment into the wind and sunshine; the sail filled, the +boat heeled to the gunwale, and we swept immediately beyond sound of the +men's voices. To what terrors they endured upon the rock, where they were +now deserted without the countenance of any civilised person or so much as +the protection of a Bible, no limit can be set; nor had they any brandy +left to be their consolation, for even in the haste and secrecy of our +departure Andie had managed to remove it.</p> + +<p>It was our first care to set Anster ashore in a cove by the Glenteithy +Rocks, so that the deliverance of our maroons might be duly seen to the +next day. Thence we kept away up Firth. The breeze, which was then so +spirited, swiftly declined, but never wholly failed us. All day we kept +moving, though often not much more; and it was after dark ere we were up +with the Queensferry. To keep the letter of Andie's engagement (or <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>[pg 201]</span>what +was left of it) I must remain on board, but I thought no harm to +communicate with the shore in writing. On Prestongrange's cover, where the +Government seal must have a good deal surprised my correspondent, I writ, +by the boat's lantern, a few necessary words, and Andie carried them to +Rankeillor. In about an hour he came aboard again, with a purse of money +and the assurance that a good horse should be standing saddled for me by +two to-morrow at Clackmannan Pool. This done, and the boat riding by her +stone anchor, we lay down to sleep under the sail.</p> + +<p>We were in the Pool the next day long ere two; and there was nothing +left for me but sit and wait. I felt little alacrity upon my errand. I +would have been glad of any passable excuse to lay it down; but none being +to be found, my uneasiness was no less great than if I had been running to +some desired pleasure. By shortly after one the horse was at the waterside, +and I could see a man walking it to and fro till I should land, which +vastly swelled my impatience. Andie ran the moment of my liberation very +fine, showing himself a man of his bare word, but scarce serving his +employers with a heaped measure; and by about fifty seconds after two I was +in the saddle and on the full stretch for Stirling. In a little more than +an hour I had passed that town, and was already mounting Alan Water side, +when the weather broke in a small tempest. The rain blinded me, the wind +had nearly beat me from the saddle, and <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a>[pg 202]</span>the first darkness of the +night surprised me in a wilderness still some way east of Balwhidder, not +very sure of my direction and mounted on a horse that began already to be +weary.</p> + +<p>In the press of my hurry, and to be spared the delay and annoyance of a +guide, I had followed (so far as it was possible for any horseman) the line +of my journey with Alan. This I did with open eyes, foreseeing a great risk +in it, which the tempest had now brought to a reality. The last that I knew +of where I was, I think it must have been about Uam Var; the hour perhaps +six at night. I must still think it great good fortune that I got about +eleven to my destination, the house of Duncan Dhu. Where I had wandered in +the interval perhaps the horse could tell. I know we were twice down, and +once over the saddle and for a moment carried away in a roaring burn. Steed +and rider were bemired up to the eyes.</p> + +<p>From Duncan I had news of the trial. It was followed in all these +Highland regions with religious interest; news of it spread from Inverary +as swift as men could travel; and I was rejoiced to learn that, up to a +late hour that Saturday, it was not yet concluded; and all men began to +suppose it must spread over to the Monday. Under the spur of this +intelligence I would not sit to eat; but, Duncan having agreed to be my +guide, took the road again on foot, with the piece in my hand and munching +as I went. Duncan brought with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" +id="Page_203"></a>[pg 203]</span>him a flask of usquebaugh and a +hand-lantern; which last enlightened us just so long as we could find +houses where to rekindle it, for the thing leaked outrageously and blew out +with every gust. The more part of the night we walked blindfold among +sheets of rain, and day found us aimless on the mountains. Hard by we +struck a hut on a burn-side, where we got a bite and a direction; and, a +little before the end of the sermon, came to the kirk doors of +Inverary.</p> + +<p>The rain had somewhat washed the upper parts of me, but I was still +bogged as high as to the knees; I streamed water; I was so weary I could +hardly limp, and my face was like a ghost's. I stood certainly more in need +of a change of raiment and a bed to lie on, than of all the benefits in +Christianity. For all which (being persuaded the chief point for me was to +make myself immediately public) I set the door open, entered that church +with the dirty Duncan at my tails, and finding a vacant place hard by, sat +down.</p> + +<p>"Thirteenthly, my brethren, and in parenthesis, the law itself must be +regarded as a means of grace," the minister was saying, in the voice of one +delighting to pursue an argument.</p> + +<p>The sermon was in English on account of the assize. The judges were +present with their armed attendants, the halberts glittered in a corner by +the door, and the seats were thronged beyond custom with the array of +lawyers. The text was in Romans 5th and 13th--the <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a>[pg 204]</span>minister a skilled hand; +and the whole of that able churchful--from Argyle, and my Lords Elchies and +Kilkerran, down to the halbertmen that came in their attendance--was sunk +with gathered brows in a profound critical attention. The minister himself +and a sprinkling of those about the door observed our entrance at the +moment and immediately forgot the same; the rest either did not hear or +would not heed; and I sat there amongst my friends and enemies +unremarked.</p> + +<p>The first that I singled out was Prestongrange. He sat well forward, +like an eager horseman in the saddle, his lips moving with relish, his eyes +glued on the minister: the doctrine was clearly to his mind. Charles +Stewart, on the other hand, was half asleep, and looked harassed and pale. +As for Symon Fraser, he appeared like a blot, and almost a scandal, in the +midst of that attentive congregation, digging his hands in his pockets, +shifting his legs, clearing his throat, rolling up his bald eyebrows and +shooting out his eyes to right and left, now with a yawn, now with a secret +smile. At times too, he would take the Bible in front of him, run it +through, seem to read a bit, run it through again, and stop and yawn +prodigiously: the whole as if for exercise.</p> + +<p>In the course of this restlessness his eye alighted on myself. He sat a +second stupefied, than tore a half leaf out of the Bible, scrawled upon it +with a pencil, and passed it with a whispered word to his next neighbor. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a>[pg +205]</span>The note came to Prestongrange, who gave me but the one look; +thence it voyaged to the hands of Mr. Erskine; thence again to Argyle, +where he sat between the other two lords of session, and his Grace turned +and fixed me with an arrogant eye. The last of those interested to observe +my presence was Charlie Stewart, and he too began to pencil and hand about +despatches, none of which I was able to trace to their destination in the +crowd.</p> + +<p>But the passage of these notes had aroused notice; all who were in the +secret (or supposed themselves to be so) were whispering information--the +rest questions; and the minister himself seemed quite discountenanced by +the flutter in the church and sudden stir and whispering. His voice +changed, he plainly faltered, nor did he again recover the easy conviction +and full tones of his delivery. It would be a puzzle to him till his dying +day, why a sermon that had gone with triumph through four parts, should +thus miscarry in the fifth.</p> + +<p>As for me, I continued to sit there, very wet and weary, and a good deal +anxious as to what should happen next, but greatly exulting in my +success.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a>[pg +206]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XVII'></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE MEMORIAL</h3> + + +<p>The last word of the blessing was scarce out of the minister's mouth +before Stewart had me by the arm. We were the first to be forth of the +church, and he made such extraordinary expedition that we were safe within +the four walls of a house before the street had begun to be thronged with +the home-going congregation.</p> + +<p>"Am I yet in time?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Ay and no," said he. "The case is over; the jury is enclosed, and will +be so kind as let us ken their view of it to-morrow in the morning, the +same as I could have told it my own self three days ago before the play +began. The thing has been public from the start. The panel kent it, '<i>Ye +may do what ye will for me</i>,' whispers he two days ago. '<i>I ken my +fate by what the Duke of Argyle has just said to Mr. Macintosh</i>.' O, +it's been a scandal!</p> + +<blockquote> +The great Argyle he gaed before,<br /> +He gart the cannons and guns to roar,<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>and the very macer cried 'Cruachan!' But now that <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a>[pg 207]</span>I have +got you again I'll never despair. The oak shall go over the myrtle yet; +we'll ding the Campbells yet in their own town. Praise God that I should +see the day!"</p> + +<p>He was leaping with excitement, emptied out his mails upon the floor +that I might have a change of clothes, and incommoded me with his +assistance as I changed. What remained to be done, or how I was to do it, +was what he never told me nor, I believe, so much as thought of. "We'll +ding the Camphells yet!" that was still his overcome. And it was forced +home upon my mind how this, that had the externals of a sober process of +law, was in its essence a clan battle between savage clans. I thought my +friend the Writer none of the least savage. Who, that had only seen him at +a counsel's back before the Lord Ordinary or following a golf ball and +laying down his clubs on Bruntsfield links, could have recognised for the +same person this voluble and violent clansman?</p> + +<p>James Stewart's counsel were four in number--Sheriffs Brown of Colstoun +and Miller, Mr. Robert Macintosh and Mr. Stewart younger of Stewart Hall. +These were covenanted to dine with the Writer after sermon, and I was very +obligingly included of the party. No sooner the cloth lifted, and the first +bowl very artfully compounded by Sheriff Miller, than we fell to the +subject in hand. I made a short narration of my seizure and captivity, and +was then examined <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" +id="Page_208"></a>[pg 208]</span>and re-examined upon the circumstances of +the murder. It will be remembered this was the first time I had had my say +out, or the matter at all handled, among lawyers; and the consequence was +very dispiriting to the others and (I must own) disappointing to +myself.</p> + +<p>"To sum up," said Colstoun, "you prove that Alan was on the spot; you +have heard him proffer menaces against Glenure; and though you assure us he +was not the man who fired, you leave a strong impression that he was in +league with him, and consenting, perhaps immediately assisting, in the act. +You show him besides, at the risk of his own liberty, actively furthering +the criminal's escape. And the rest of your testimony (so far as the least +material) depends on the bare word of Alan or of James, the two accused. In +short, you do not at all break, but only lengthen by one personage, the +chain that binds our client to the murderer; and I need scarcely say that +the introduction of a third accomplice rather aggravates that appearance of +a conspiracy which has been our stumbling block from the beginning."</p> + +<p>"I am of the same opinion," said Sheriff Miller. "I think we may all be +very much obliged to Prestongrange for taking a most uncomfortable witness +out of our way. And chiefly, I think, Mr. Balfour himself might be obliged. +For you talk of a third accomplice, but Mr. Balfour (in my view) has very +much the appearance of a fourth."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a>[pg +209]</span>"Allow me, sirs!" interposed Stewart the Writer. "There is +another view. Here we have a witness--never fash whether material or not--a +witness in this cause, kidnapped by that old, lawless, bandit crew of the +Glengyle Macgregors, and sequestered for near upon a month in a bourock of +old cold ruins on the Bass. Move that and see what dirt you fling on the +proceedings! Sirs, this is a tale to make the world ring with! It would be +strange, with such a grip as this, if we couldnae squeeze out a pardon for +my client."</p> + +<p>"And suppose we took up Mr. Balfour's cause to-morrow?" said Stewart +Hall. "I am much deceived or we should find so many impediments thrown in +our path, as that James should have been hanged before we had found a court +to hear us. This is a great scandal, but I suppose we have none of us +forgot a greater still, I mean the matter of the Lady Grange. The woman was +still in durance; my friend Mr. Hope of Rankeillor did what was humanly +possible; and how did he speed? He never got a warrant! Well, it'll be the +same now; the same weapons will be used. This is a scene, gentlemen, of +clan animosity. The hatred of the name which I have the honor to bear, +rages in high quarters. There is nothing here to be viewed but naked +Campbell spite and scurvy Campbell intrigue."</p> + +<p>You may be sure this was to touch a welcome topic, and I sat for some +time in the midst of my learned <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" +id="Page_210"></a>[pg 210]</span>counsel, almost deaved with their talk but +extremely little the wiser for its purport. The Writer was led into some +hot expressions; Colstoun must take him up and set him right; the rest +joined in on different sides, but all pretty noisy; the Duke of Argyle was +beaten like a blanket; King George came in for a few digs in the by-going +and a great deal of rather elaborate defence: and there was only one person +that seemed to be forgotten, and that was James of the Glens.</p> + +<p>Through all this Mr. Miller sat quiet. He was a slip of an oldish +gentleman, ruddy and twinkling; he spoke in a smooth rich voice, with an +infinite effect of pawkiness, dealing out each word the way an actor does, +to give the most expression possible; and even now, when he was silent, and +sat there with his wig laid aside, his glass in both hands, his mouth +funnily pursed, and his chin out, he seemed the mere picture of a merry +slyness. It was plain he had a word to say, and waited for the fit +occasion.</p> + +<p>It came presently. Colstoun had wound up one of his speeches with some +expression of their duty to their client. His brother sheriff was pleased, +I suppose, with the transition. He took the table in his confidence with a +gesture and a look.</p> + + + +<a name="balfour006"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour006.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: THERE IS NOTHING HERE TO BE VIEWED BUT NAKED +CAMPBELL SPITE AND SCURVY CAMPBELL INTRIGUE" src="images/balfour006sm.jpg" height="558" width="387" /></a> +<br />THERE IS NOTHING HERE TO BE VIEWED BUT NAKED CAMPBELL SPITE AND SCURVY +CAMPBELL INTRIGUE + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<p>"That suggests to me a consideration which seems overlooked," said he. +"The interest of our client goes certainly before all, but the world does +not come to an end with James Stewart." Whereat he cocked his eye. <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a>[pg 211]</span>"I +might condescend, <i>exempli gratia</i>, upon a Mr. George Brown, a Mr. +Thomas Miller, and a Mr. David Balfour. Mr. David Balfour has a very good +ground of complaint, and I think, gentlemen--if his story was properly red +out--I think there would be a number of wigs on the green."</p> + +<p>The whole table turned to him with a common movement.</p> + +<p>"Properly handled and carefully red out, his is a story that could +scarcely fail to have some consequence," he continued. "The whole +administration of justice, from its highest officer downward, would be +totally discredited; and it looks to me as if they would need to be +replaced." He seemed to shine with cunning as he said it. "And I need not +point out to ye that this of Mr. Balfour's would be a remarkable bonny +cause to appear in," he added.</p> + +<p>Well, there they all were started on another hare; Mr. Balfour's cause, +and what kind of speeches could be there delivered, and what officials +could be thus turned out, and who would succeed to their positions. I shall +give but the two specimens. It was proposed to approach Symon Fraser, whose +testimony, if it could be obtained, could prove certainly fatal to Argyle +and Prestongrange. Miller highly approved of the attempt. "We have here +before us a dreeping roast," said he, "here is cut-and-come-again for all." +And methought all licked their lips. The other was already near the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a>[pg 212]</span>end. +Stewart the Writer was out of the body with, delight, smelling vengeance on +his chief enemy, the Duke.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," cried he, charging his glass, "here is to Sheriff Miller. +His legal abilities are known to all. His culinary, this bowl in front of +us is here to speak for. But when it comes to the poleetical!"--cries he, +and drains the glass.</p> + +<p>"Ay, but it will hardly prove politics in your meaning, my friend," said +the gratified Miller. "A revolution, if you like, and I think I can promise +you that historical writers shall date from Mr. Balfour's cause. But +properly guided, Mr. Stewart, tenderly guided, it shall prove a peaceful +revolution."</p> + +<p>"And if the damned Campbells get their ears rubbed, what care I?" cries +Stewart, smiting down his fist.</p> + +<p>It will be thought I was not very well pleased with all this, though I +could scarce forbear smiling at a kind of innocency in these old +intriguers. But it was not my view to have undergone so many sorrows for +the advancement of Sheriff Miller or to make a revolution in the Parliament +House: and I interposed accordingly with as much simplicity of manner as I +could assume.</p> + +<p>"I have to thank you, gentlemen, for your advice," said I. "And now I +would like, by your leave, to set you two or three questions. There is one +thing that has fallen rather on one side, for instance: Will this cause do +any good to our friend James of the Glens?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a>[pg +213]</span>They seemed all a hair set back, and gave various answers, but +concurring practically in one point, that James had now no hope but in the +King's mercy.</p> + +<p>"To proceed, then," said I, "will it do any good to Scotland? We have a +saying that it is an ill bird that fouls his own nest. I remember hearing +we had a riot in Edinburgh when I was an infant child, which gave occasion +to the late Queen to call this country barbarous; and I always understood +that we had rather lost than gained by that. Then came the year +'Forty-five, which made Scotland to be talked of everywhere; but I never +heard it said we had anyway gained by the 'Forty-five. And now we come to +this cause of Mr. Balfour's, as you call it. Sheriff Miller tells us +historical writers are to date from it, and I would not wonder. It is only +my fear they would date from it as a period of calamity and public +reproach."</p> + +<p>The nimble-witted Miller had already smelt where I was travelling to, +and made haste to get on the same road. "Forcibly put, Mr. Balfour," says +he. "A weighty observe, sir."</p> + +<p>"We have next to ask ourselves if it will be good for King George," I +pursued. "Sheriff Miller appears pretty easy upon this; but I doubt you +will scarce be able to pull down the house from under him, without his +Majesty coming by a knock or two, one of which might easily prove +fatal."</p> + +<p>I gave them a chance to answer, but none volunteered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a>[pg +214]</span>"Of those for whom the case was to be profitable," I went on, +"Sheriff Miller gave us the names of several, among the which he was good +enough to mention mine. I hope he will pardon me if I think otherwise. I +believe I hung not the least back in this affair while there was life to be +saved; but I own I thought myself extremely hazarded, and I own I think it +would be a pity for a young man, with some idea of coming to the bar, to +ingrain upon himself the character of a turbulent, factious fellow before +he was yet twenty. As for James, it seems--at this date of the proceedings, +with the sentence as good as pronounced--he has no hope but in the King's +mercy. May not his Majesty, then, be more pointedly addressed, the +characters of these high officers sheltered from the public, and myself +kept out of a position which I think spells ruin for me?"</p> + +<p>They all sat and gazed into their glasses, and I could see they found my +attitude on the affair unpalatable. But Miller was ready at all events.</p> + +<p>"If I may be allowed to put our young friend's notion in more formal +shape," says he, "I understand him to propose that we should embody the +fact of his sequestration, and perhaps some heads of the testimony he was +prepared to offer, in a memorial to the Crown. This plan has elements of +success. It is as likely as any other (and perhaps likelier) to help our +client. Perhaps his Majesty would have the goodness to feel a certain +gratitude to all concerned in such a memorial, <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a>[pg 215]</span>which might be construed +into an expression of a very delicate loyalty; and I think, in the drafting +of the same, this view might be brought forward."</p> + +<p>They all nodded to each other, not without sighs, for the former +alternative was doubtless more after their inclination.</p> + +<p>"Paper then, Mr. Stewart, if you please," pursued Miller; "and I think +it might very fittingly be signed by the five of us here present, as +procurators for the 'condemned man.'"</p> + +<p>"It can do none of us any harm at least," says Colstoun, heaving another +sigh, for he had seen himself Lord Advocate the last ten minutes.</p> + +<p>Thereupon they set themselves, not very enthusiastically, to draft the +memorial--a process in the course of which they soon caught fire; and I had +no more ado but to sit looking on and answer an occasional question. The +paper was very well expressed; beginning with a recitation of the facts +about myself, the reward offered for my apprehension, my surrender, the +pressure brought to bear upon me; my sequestration; and my arrival at +Inverary in time to be too late; going on to explain the reasons of loyalty +and public interest for which it was agreed to waive any right of action; +and winding up with a forcible appeal to the King's mercy on behalf of +James.</p> + +<p>Methought I was a good deal sacrificed, and rather represented in the +light of a firebrand of a fellow whom <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a>[pg 216]</span>my cloud of lawyers had +restrained with difficulty from extremes. But I let it pass, and made but +the one suggestion, that I should be described as ready to deliver my own +evidence and adduce that of others before any commission of inquiry--and +the one demand, that I should be immediately furnished with a copy.</p> + +<p>Colstoun hummed and hawed. "This is a very confidential document," said +he.</p> + +<p>"And my position towards Prestongrange is highly peculiar," I replied. +"No question but I must have touched his heart at our first interview, so +that he has since stood my friend consistently. But for him, gentlemen, I +must now be lying dead or awaiting my sentence alongside poor James. For +which reason I choose to communicate to him the fact of this memorial as +soon as it is copied. You are to consider also that this step will make for +my protection. I have enemies here accustomed to drive hard; his Grace is +in his own country, Lovat by his side; and if there should hang any +ambiguity over our proceedings, I think I might very well awake in +gaol."</p> + +<p>Not finding any very ready answer to these considerations, my company of +advisers were at the last persuaded to consent, and made only this +condition that I was to lay the paper before Prestongrange with the express +compliments of all concerned.</p> + +<p>The Advocate was at the castle dining with his Grace. By the hand of one +of Colstoun's servants I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" +id="Page_217"></a>[pg 217]</span>sent him a billet asking for an interview, +and received a summons to meet him at once in a private house of the town. +Here I found him alone in a chamber; from his face there was nothing to be +gleaned; yet I was not so unobservant but what I spied some halberts in the +hall, and not so stupid but what I could gather he was prepared to arrest +me there and then, should it appear advisable.</p> + +<p>"So, Mr. David, this is you?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Where I fear I am not overly welcome, my lord," said I. "And I would +like before I go further to express my sense of your lordship's continued +good offices, even should they now cease."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of your gratitude before," he replied drily, "and I think +this can scarce be the matter you called me from my wine to listen to. I +would remember also, if I were you, that you still stand on a very boggy +foundation."</p> + +<p>"Not now, my lord, I think," said I; "and if your lordship will but +glance an eye along this, you will perhaps think as I do."</p> + +<p>He read it sedulously through, frowning heavily; then turned back to one +part and another which he seemed to weigh and compare the effect of. His +face a little lightened.</p> + +<p>"This is not so bad but what it might be worse," said he; "though I am +still likely to pay dear for my acquaintance with Mr. David Balfour."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a>[pg +218]</span>"Rather for your indulgence to that unlucky young man, my lord," +said I.</p> + +<p>He still skimmed the paper, and all the while his spirits seemed to +mend.</p> + +<p>"And to whom am I indebted for this?" he asked presently. "Other +counsels must have been discussed, I think. Who was it proposed this +private method? Was it Miller?"</p> + +<p>"My lord, it was myself," said I. "These gentlemen have shown me no such +consideration, as that I should deny myself any credit I can fairly claim, +or spare them any responsibility they should properly bear. And the mere +truth is, that they were all in favour of a process which should have +remarkable consequences in the Parliament House, and prove for them (in one +of their own expressions) a dripping roast. Before I intervened, I think +they were on the point of sharing out the different law appointments. Our +friend Mr. Symon was to be taken in upon some composition."</p> + +<p>Prestongrange smiled. "These are our friends!" said he. "And what were +your reasons for dissenting, Mr. David?"</p> + +<p>I told them without concealment, expressing, however, with more force +and volume those which regarded Prestongrange himself.</p> + +<p>"You do me no more than justice," said he. "I have fought as hard in +your interest as you have fought <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" +id="Page_219"></a>[pg 219]</span>against mine. And how came you here +to-day?" he asked. "As the case drew out, I began to grow uneasy that I had +clipped the period so fine, and I was even expecting you to-morrow. But +to-day--I never dreamed of it."</p> + +<p>I was not, of course, going to betray Andie.</p> + +<p>"I suspect there is some very weary cattle by the road," said I.</p> + +<p>"If I had known you were such a mosstrooper you should have tasted +longer of the Bass," says he.</p> + +<p>"Speaking of which, my lord, I return your letter." And I gave him the +enclosure in the counterfeit hand.</p> + +<p>"There was the cover also with the seal," said he.</p> + +<p>"I have it not," said I. "It bore naught but the address, and could not +compromise a cat. The second enclosure I have, and with your permission, I +desire to keep it."</p> + +<p>I thought he winced a little, but he said nothing to the point. +"To-morrow," he resumed, "our business here is to be finished, and I +proceed by Glasgow. I would be very glad to have you of my party, Mr. +David."</p> + +<p>"My lord...." I began.</p> + +<p>"I do not deny it will be of service to me," he interrupted. "I desire +even that, when we shall come to Edinburgh you should alight at my house. +You have very warm friends in the Miss Grants, who will be overjoyed to +have you to themselves. If you think <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a>[pg 220]</span>I have been of use to you, +you can thus easily repay me, and so far from losing, may reap some +advantage by the way. It is not every strange young man who is presented in +society by the King's Advocate."</p> + +<p>Often enough already (in our brief relations) this gentleman had caused +my head to spin; no doubt but what for a moment he did so again now. Here +was the old fiction still maintained of my particular favour with his +daughters, one of whom had been so good as laugh at me, while the other two +had scarce deigned to remark the fact of my existence. And now I was to +ride with my lord to Glascow; I was to dwell with him in Edinburgh; I was +to be brought into society under his protection! That he should have so +much good-nature as to forgive me was surprising enough; that he could wish +to take me up and serve me seemed impossible; and I began to seek for some +ulterior meaning. One was plain. If I became his guest, repentance was +excluded; I could never think better of my present design and bring any +action. And besides, would not my presence in his house draw out the whole +pungency of the memorial? For that complaint could not be very seriously +regarded, if the person chiefly injured was the guest of the official most +incriminated. As I thought upon this, I could not quite refrain from +smiling.</p> + +<p>"This is in the nature of a countercheck to the memorial?" said I.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a>[pg +221]</span>"You are cunning, Mr. David," said he, "and you do not wholly +guess wrong; the fact will be of use to me in my defence. Perhaps, however, +you underrate my friendly sentiments, which are perfectly genuine. I have a +respect for you, Mr. David, mingled with awe," says he, smiling.</p> + +<p>"I am more than willing, I am earnestly desirous to meet your wishes," +said I. "It is my design to be called to the bar, where your lordship's +countenance would be invaluable; and I am besides sincerely grateful to +yourself and family for different marks of interest and of indulgence. The +difficulty is here. There is one point in which we pull two ways. You are +trying to hang James Stewart, I am trying to save him. In so far as my +riding with you would better your lordship's defence, I am at your +lordship's orders; but in so far as it would help to hang James Stewart, +you see me at a stick."</p> + +<p>I thought he swore to himself. "You should certainly be called; the bar +is the true scene for your talents," says he, bitterly, and then fell a +while silent. "I will tell you," he presently resumed, "there is no +question of James Stewart, for or against. James is a dead man; his life is +given and taken--bought (if you like it better) and sold; no memorial can +help--no defalcation of a faithful Mr. David hurt him. Blow high, blow low, +there will be no pardon for James Stewart: and take that for said! The +question is now <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" +id="Page_222"></a>[pg 222]</span>of myself: am I to stand or fall? and I do +not deny to you that I am in some danger. But will Mr. David Balfour +consider why? It is not because I have pushed the case unduly against +James; for that, I am sure of condonation. And it is not because I have +sequestered Mr. David on a rock, though it will pass under that colour; but +because I did not take the ready and plain path, to which I was pressed +repeatedly, and send Mr. David to his grave or to the gallows. Hence the +scandal--hence this damned memorial," striking the paper on his leg. "My +tenderness for you has brought me in this difficulty. I wish to know if +your tenderness to your own conscience is too great to let you help me out +of it?"</p> + +<p>No doubt but there was much of the truth in what he said; if James was +past helping, whom was it more natural that I should turn to help than just +the man before me, who had helped myself so often, and was even now setting +me a pattern of patience? I was besides not only weary, but beginning to be +ashamed of my perpetual attitude of suspicion and refusal.</p> + +<p>"If you will name the time and place, I will be punctually ready to +attend your lordship," said I.</p> + +<p>He shook hands with me. "And I think my misses have some news for you," +says he, dismissing me.</p> + +<p>I came away, vastly pleased to have my peace made, yet a little +concerned in conscience; nor could I help wondering, as I went back, +whether, perhaps, I had <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" +id="Page_223"></a>[pg 223]</span>not been a scruple too good-natured. But +there was the fact, that this was a man that might have been my father, an +able man, a great dignitary, and one that, in the hour of my need, had +reached a hand to my assistance. I was in the better humour to enjoy the +remainder of that evening, which I passed with the advocates, in excellent +company no doubt, but perhaps with rather more than a sufficiency of punch: +for though I went early to bed I have no clear mind of how I got there.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a>[pg +224]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE TEE'D BALL</h3> + + +<p>On the morrow, from the justices' private room, where none could see me, +I heard the verdict given in and judgment rendered upon James. The Duke's +words I am quite sure I have correctly; and since that famous passage has +been made a subject of dispute, I may as well commemorate my version. +Having referred to the year '45, the chief of the Campbells, sitting as +Justice-General upon the bench, thus addressed the unfortunate Stewart +before him: "If you had been successful in that rebellion, you might have +been giving the law where you have now received the judgment of it; we, who +are this day your judges, might have been tried before one of your mock +courts of judicature; and then you might have been satiated with the blood +of any name or clan to which you had an aversion."</p> + +<p>"This is to let the cat out of the bag, indeed," thought I. And that was +the general impression. It was extraordinary how the young advocate lads +took hold and made a mock of this speech, and how scarce a meal passed but +what some one would get in the words: "And then you might have been +satiated." Many <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" +id="Page_225"></a>[pg 225]</span>songs were made in that time for the +hour's diversion, and are near all forgot. I remember one began:</p> + +<blockquote> +What do ye want the bluid of, bluid of?<br /> + Is it a name, or is it a clan,<br /> + Or is it an aefauld Hielandman,<br /> +That ye want the bluid of, bluid of?<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>Another went to my old favourite air, <i>The House of Airlie</i>, and +began thus:</p> + +<blockquote> +It fell on a day when Argyle was on the bench,<br /> + That they served him a Stewart for his denner.<br +/> +</blockquote> + +<p>And one of the verses ran:</p> + +<blockquote> +Then up and spak the Duke, and flyted on his cook,<br /> + I regaird it as a sensible aspersion,<br /> +That I would sup ava', an' satiate my maw,<br /> + With the bluid of ony clan of my aversion.<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>James was as fairly murdered as though the Duke had got a fowling-piece +and stalked him. So much of course I knew: but others knew not so much, and +were more affected by the items of scandal that came to light in the +progress of the cause. One of the chief was certainly this sally of the +justice's. It was run hard by another of a juryman, who had struck into the +midst of Colstoun's speech for the defence with a "Pray, sir, cut it short, +we are quite weary," which seemed the very excess of impudence and +simplicity. But some of my new lawyer friends were still more staggered +with an innovation that had disgraced and even vitiated the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a>[pg +226]</span>proceedings. One witness was never called. His name, indeed, was +printed, where it may still be seen on the fourth page of the list: "James +Drummond, <i>alias</i> Macgregor, <i>alias</i> James More, late tenant in +Inveronachile"; and his precognition had been taken, as the manner is, in +writing. He had remembered or invented (God help him) matter which was lead +in James Stewart's shoes, and I saw was like to prove wings to his own. +This testimony it was highly desirable to bring to the notice of the jury, +without exposing the man himself to the perils of cross-examination; and +the way it was brought about was a matter of surprise to all. For the paper +was handed round (like a curiosity) in court; passed through the jury-box, +where it did its work; and disappeared again (as though by accident) before +it reached the counsel for the prisoner. This was counted a most insidious +device; and that the name of James More should be mingled up with it filled +me with shame for Catriona and concern for myself.</p> + +<p>The following day, Prestongrange and I, with a considerable company, set +out for Glasgow, where (to my impatience) we continued to linger some time +in a mixture of pleasure and affairs. I lodged with my lord, with whom I +was encouraged to familiarity; had my place at entertainments; was +presented to the chief guests; and altogether made more of than I thought +accorded either with my parts or station; so that, on strangers being +present, I would often blush for Prestongrange. <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a>[pg 227]</span>It must be owned the view +I had taken of the world in these last months was fit to cast a gloom upon +my character. I had met many men, some of them leaders in Israel whether by +their birth or talents; and who among them all had shown clean hands? As +for the Browns and Millers, I had seen their self-seeking, I could never +again respect them. Prestongrange was the best yet; he had saved me, had +spared me rather, when others had it in their minds to murder me outright; +but the blood of James lay at his door; and I thought his present +dissimulation with myself a thing below pardon. That he should affect to +find pleasure in my discourse almost surprised me out of my patience. I +would sit and watch him with a kind of a slow fire of anger in my bowels. +"Ah, friend, friend," I would think to myself, "if you were but through +with this affair of the memorial, would you not kick me in the streets?" +Here I did him, as events have proved, the most foul injustice; and I think +he was at once far more sincere, and a far more artful performer than I +supposed.</p> + +<p>But I had some warrant for my incredulity in the behaviour of that court +of young advocates that hung about him in the hope of patronage. The sudden +favour of a lad not previously heard of troubled them at first out of +measure; but two days were not gone by before I found myself surrounded +with flattery and attention. I was the same young man, and neither <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a>[pg 228]</span>better +nor bonnier, that they had rejected a month before; and now there was no +civility too fine for me! The same, do I say? It was not so; and the byname +by which I went behind my back confirmed it. Seeing me so firm with the +Advocate, and persuaded that I was to fly high and far, they had taken a +word from the golfing green, and called me <i>the Tee'd Ball</i>.<sup><a +href="#fn14" name="rfn14">[14]</a></sup> I was told I was now "one of +themselves"; I was to taste of their soft lining, who had already made my +own experience of the roughness of the outer husk; and the one, to whom I +had been presented in Hope Park, was so assured as even to remind me of +that meeting. I told him I had not the pleasure of remembering it.</p> + +<p>"Why," says he, "it was Miss Grant herself presented me! My name is +so-and-so."</p> + +<p>"It may very well be, sir," said I, "but I have kept no mind of it."</p> + +<p>At which he desisted; and in the midst of the disgust that commonly +overflowed my spirits I had a glisk of pleasure.</p> + +<p>But I have not patience to dwell upon that time at length. When I was in +company with these young politics I was borne down with shame for myself +and my own plain ways, and scorn for them and their duplicity. Of the two +evils, I thought Prestongrange to be the least; and while I was always as +stiff as buckram to the young bloods, I made rather a dissimulation <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a>[pg 229]</span>of my +hard feelings towards the Advocate, and was (in old Mr. Campbell's word) +"soople to the laird." Himself commented on the difference, and bid me be +more of my age, and make friends with my young comrades.</p> + +<p>I told him I was slow of making friends.</p> + +<p>"I will take the word back," said he. "But there is such a thing as +<i>Fair gude e'en and fair gude day</i>, Mr. David. These are the same +young men with whom you are to pass your days and get through life: your +backwardness has a look of arrogance; and unless you can assume a little +more lightness of manner, I fear you will meet difficulties in the +path."</p> + +<p>"It will be an ill job to make a silk purse of a sow's ear," said I.</p> + +<p>On the morning of October 1st I was awakened by the clattering in of an +express; and getting to my window almost before he had dismounted, I saw +the messenger had ridden hard. Somewhile after I was called to +Prestongrange, where he was sitting in his bedgown and nightcap, with his +letters around him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. David," said he, "I have a piece of news for you. It concerns some +friends of yours, of whom I sometimes think you are a little ashamed, for +you have never referred to their existence."</p> + +<p>I suppose I blushed.</p> + +<p>"I see you understand, since you make the answering signal," said he. +"And I must compliment you on your excellent taste in beauty. But do you +know, Mr. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a>[pg +230]</span>David, this seems to me a very enterprising lass? She crops up +from every side. The Government of Scotland appears unable to proceed for +Mistress Katrine Drummond, which was somewhat the case (no great while +back) with a certain Mr. David Balfour. Should not these make a good match? +Her first intromission in politics--but I must not tell you that story, the +authorities have decided you are to hear it otherwise and from a livelier +narrator. This new example is more serious, however; and I am afraid I must +alarm you with the intelligence that she is now in prison."</p> + +<p>I cried out.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "the little lady is in prison. But I would not have you +to despair. Unless you (with your friends and memorials) shall procure my +downfall, she is to suffer nothing."</p> + +<p>"But what has she done? What is her offence?" I cried.</p> + +<p>"It might be almost construed a high treason," he returned, "for she has +broke the King's Castle of Edinburgh."</p> + +<p>"The lady is much my friend," I said. "I know you would not work me if +the thing were serious."</p> + +<p>"And yet it is serious in a sense," said he; "for this rogue of a +Katrine--or Cateran, as we may call her--has set adrift again upon the +world that very doubtful character, her papa."</p> + +<p>Here was one of my previsions justified: James <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a>[pg 231]</span>More was once again at +liberty. He had lent his men to keep me a prisoner; he had volunteered his +testimony in the Appin case, and the same (no matter by what subterfuge) +had been employed to influence the jury. Now came his reward, and he was +free. It might please the authorities to give to it the colour of an +escape; but I knew better--I knew it was the fulfilment of a bargain. The +same course of thought relieved me of the least alarm for Catriona. She +might be thought to have broke prison for her father; she might have +believed so herself. But the chief hand in the whole business was that of +Prestongrange; and I was sure, so far from letting her come to punishment, +he would not suffer her to be even tried. Whereupon thus came out of me the +not very politic ejaculation:</p> + +<p>"Ah! I was expecting that!"</p> + +<p>"You have at times a great deal of discretion too!" says +Prestongrange.</p> + +<p>"And what is my lord pleased to mean by that?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I was just marvelling," he replied, "that being so clever as to draw +these inferences, you should not be clever enough to keep them to yourself. +But I think you would like to hear the details of the affair. I have +received two versions: and the least official is the more full and far the +more entertaining, being from the lively pen of my eldest daughter. 'Here +is all the town bizzing with a fine piece of work,' she writes, 'and <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a>[pg 232]</span>what +would make the thing more noted (if it were only known) the malefactor is a +<i>protégée</i> of his lordship my papa. I am sure your heart +is too much in your duty (if it were nothing else) to have forgotten Grey +Eyes. What does she do, but get a broad hat with the flaps open, a long +hairy-like man's great-coat, and a big gravatt; kilt her coats up to +<i>Gude kens whaur</i>, clap two pair of boot-hose upon her legs, take a +pair of <i>clouted brogues</i><sup><a href="#fn15" +name="rfn15">[15]</a></sup> in her hand, and off to the Castle? Here she +gives herself out to be a soutar<sup><a href="#fn16" +name="rfn16">[16]</a></sup> in the employ of James More, and gets admitted +to his cell, the lieutenant (who seems to have been full of pleasantry) +making sport among his soldiers of the soutar's great-coat. Presently they +hear disputation and the sound of blows inside. Out flies the cobbler, his +coat flying, the flaps of his hat beat about his face, and the lieutenant +and his soldiers mock at him as he runs off. They laughed not so hearty the +next time they had occasion to visit the cell, and found nobody but a tall, +pretty, grey-eyed lass in the female habit! As for the cobbler, he was +"over the hills ayont Dumblane," and it's thought that poor Scotland will +have to console herself without him. I drank Catriona's health this night +in public. Indeed, the whole town admires her; and I think the beaux would +wear bits of her garters in their button-holes if they could only get them. +I would have gone to visit her in prison too, only I remembered <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a>[pg 233]</span>in time +I was papa's daughter; so I wrote her a billet instead, which I entrusted +to the faithful Doig, and I hope you will admit I can be political when I +please. The same faithful gomeral is to despatch this letter by the express +along with those of the wiseacres, so that you may hear Tom Fool in company +with Solomon. Talking of <i>gomerals</i>, do tell <i>Dauvit Balfour</i>. I +would I could see the face of him at the thought of a long-legged lass in +such a predicament! to say nothing of the levities of your affectionate +daughter, and his respectful friend.' So my rascal signs herself!" +continued Prestongrange. "And you see, Mr. David, it is quite true what I +tell you, that my daughters regard you with the most affectionate +playfulness."</p> + + +<p>"The gomeral is much obliged," said I.</p> + +<p>"And was not this prettily done?" he went on. "Is not this Highland maid +a piece of a heroine?"</p> + +<p>"I was always sure she had a great heart," said I. "And I wager she +guessed nothing.... But I beg your pardon, this is to tread upon forbidden +subjects."</p> + +<p>"I will go bail she did not," he returned, quite openly. "I will go bail +she thought she was flying straight into King George's face."</p> + +<p>Remembrance of Catriona, and the thought of her lying in captivity, +moved me strangely. I could see that even Prestongrange admired, and could +not withhold his lips from smiling when he considered her behaviour. As for +Miss Grant, for all her ill habit of <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a>[pg 234]</span>mockery, her admiration +shone out plain. A kind of a heat came on me.</p> + +<p>"I am not your lordship's daughter..." I began.</p> + +<p>"That I know of!" he put in smiling.</p> + +<p>"I speak like a fool," said I, "or rather I began wrong. It would +doubtless be unwise in Mistress Grant to go to her in prison; but for me, I +think I would look like a half-hearted friend if I did not fly there +instantly."</p> + +<p>"So-ho, Mr. David," says he, "I thought that you and I were in a +bargain?"</p> + +<p>"My lord," I said, "when I made that bargain I was a good deal affected +by your goodness, but I'll never can deny that I was moved besides by my +own interest. There was self-seeking in my heart, and I think shame of it +now. It may be for your lordship's safety to say this fashious Davie +Balfour is your friend and housemate. Say it then; I'll never contradict +you. But as for your patronage, I give it all back. I ask but the one +thing--let me go, and give me a pass to see her in her prison."</p> + +<p>He looked at me with a hard eye. "You put the cart before the horse, I +think," says he. "That which I had given was a portion of my liking, which +your thankless nature does not seem to have remarked. But for my patronage, +it is not given, nor (to be exact) is it yet offered." He paused a bit. +"And I warn you, you do not know yourself," he added. "Youth is a <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a>[pg 235]</span>hasty +season; you will think better of all this before a year."</p> + +<p>"Well, and I would like to be that kind of youth!" I cried. "I have seen +too much of the other party, in these young advocates that fawn upon your +lordship and are even at the pains to fawn on me. And I have seen it in the +old ones also. They are all for by-ends, the whole clan of them! It's this +that makes me seem to misdoubt your lordship's liking. Why would I think +that you would like me? But ye told me yourself ye had an interest!"</p> + +<p>I stopped at this, confounded that I had run so far; he was observing me +with a unfathomable face.</p> + +<p>"My lord, I ask your pardon," I resumed. "I have nothing in my chafts +but a rough country tongue. I think it would be only decent-like if I would +go to see my friend in her captivity; but I'm owing you my life, I'll never +forget that; and-if it's for your lordship's good, here I'll stay. That's +barely gratitude."</p> + +<p>"This might have been reached in fewer words," says Prestongrange, +grimly. "It is easy, and it is at times gracious, to say a plain Scots +'ay'."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but, my lord, I think ye take me not yet entirely!" cried I. "For +<i>your</i> sake, for my life-safe, and the kindness that ye say ye bear to +me--for these, I'll consent; but not for any good that might be coming to +myself. If I stand aside when this young maid <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a>[pg 236]</span>is in her trial, it's a +thing I will be noways advantaged by; I will lose by it, I will never gain. +I would rather make a shipwreck wholly than to build on that +foundation."</p> + +<p>He was a minute serious, then smiled. "You mind me of the man with the +long nose," said he: "was you to look at the moon by a telescope, you would +see David Balfour there! But you shall have your way of it. I will ask at +you one service, and then set you free. My clerks are overdriven; be so +good as copy me these few pages," says he, visibly swithering among some +huge rolls of manuscripts, "and when that is done, I shall bid you God +speed! I would never charge myself with Mr. David's conscience; and if you +could cast some part of it (as you went by) in a moss hag, you would find +yourself to ride much easier without it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not just entirely in the same direction though, my lord!" says +I.</p> + +<p>"And you shall have the last word, too!" cries he gaily.</p> + +<p>Indeed he had some cause for gaiety, having now found the means to gain +his purpose. To lessen the weight of the memorial, or to have a readier +answer at his hand, he desired I should appear publicly in the character of +his intimate. But if I were to appear with the same publicity as a visitor +to Catriona in her prison the world would scarce stint to draw conclusions, +and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a>[pg +237]</span>the true nature of James More's escape must become evident to +all. This was the little problem I had set him of a sudden, and to which he +had so briskly found an answer. I was to be tethered in Glasgow by that job +of copying, which in mere outward decency I could not well refuse; and +during these hours of my employment Catriona was privately got rid of. I +think shame to write of this man that loaded me with so many goodnesses. He +was kind to me as any father, yet I ever thought him as false as a cracked +bell.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a>[pg +238]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XIX'></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>I AM MUCH IN THE HANDS OF THE LADIES</h3> + + +<p>The copying was a weary business, the more so as I perceived very early +there was no sort of urgency in the matters treated, and began very early +to consider my employment a pretext. I had no sooner finished, than I got +to horse, used what remained of daylight to the best purpose, and being at +last fairly benighted, slept in a house by Almond-Water side. I was in the +saddle again before the day, and the Edinburgh booths were just opening +when I clattered in by the West Bow and drew up a smoking horse at my lord +Advocate's door. I had a written word for Doig, my lord's private hand that +was thought to be in all his secrets, a worthy, little plain man, all fat +and snuff and self-sufficiency. Him I found already at his desk and already +bedabbled with maccabaw, in the same anteroom where I rencountered with +James More. He read the note scrupulously through like a chapter in his +Bible.</p> + +<p>"H'm," says he, "ye come a wee thing ahint-hand, Mr. Balfour. The bird's +flaen, we hae letten her out."</p> + +<p>"Miss Drummond is set free?" I cried.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a>[pg +239]</span>"Achy!" said he. "What would we keep her for, ye ken? To hae +made a steer about the bairn would hae pleased naebody."</p> + +<p>"And where'll she be now?" says I.</p> + +<p>"Gude kens!" says Doig, with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"She'll have gone home to Lady Allardyce, I'm thinking," said I.</p> + +<p>"That'll be it," said he.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll gang there straight," says I.</p> + +<p>"But ye'll be for a bite or ye go?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Neither bite nor sup," said I. "I had a good waucht of milk in by +Ratho."</p> + +<p>"Aweel, aweel," says Doig. "But ye'll can leave your horse here and your +bags, for it seems we're to have your up-put."</p> + +<p>"Na, na," said I. "Tamson's mear<sup><a href="#fn17" +name="rfn17">[17]</a></sup> would never be the thing for me, this day of +all days."</p> + +<p>Doig speaking somewhat broad, I had been led by imitation into an accent +much more countrified than I was usually careful to affect, a good deal +broader indeed than I have written it down; and I was the more ashamed when +another voice joined in behind me with a scrap of a ballad:</p> + +<blockquote> +"Gae saddle me the bonny black,<br /> + Gae saddle sune and mak' him ready,<br /> +For I will down the Gatehope-slack,<br /> + And a' to see my bonny leddy."<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a>[pg +240]</span>The young lady, when I turned to her, stood in a morning gown, +and her hands muffled in the same, as if to hold me at a distance. Yet I +could not but think there was kindness in the eye with which she saw +me.</p> + +<p>"My best respects to you, Mistress Grant," said I bowing.</p> + +<p>"The like to yourself, Mr. David," she replied, with a deep courtesy, +"And I beg to remind you of an old musty saw, that meat and mass never +hindered man. The mass I cannot afford you, for we are all good +Protestants. But the meat I press on your attention. And I would not wonder +but I could find something for your private ear that would be worth the +stopping for."</p> + +<p>"Mistress Grant," said I, "I believe I am already your debtor for some +merry words--and I think they were kind too--on a piece of unsigned +paper."</p> + +<p>"Unsigned paper?" says she, and made a droll face, which was likewise +wondrous beautiful, as of one trying to remember.</p> + +<p>"Or else I am the more deceived," I went on. "But to be sure, we shall +have the time to speak of these, since your father is so good as to make me +for a while your inmate; and the <i>gomeral</i> begs you at this time only +for the favour of his liberty."</p> + +<p>"You give yourself hard names," said she.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Doig and I would be blythe to take harder at your clever pen," says +I.</p> + +<p>"Once more I have to admire the discretion of all <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a>[pg +241]</span>men-folk," she replied. "But if you will not eat, off with you +at once; you will be back the sooner, for you go on a fool's errand. Off +with you, Mr. David," she continued, opening the door.</p> + +<blockquote> +"He has lowpen on his bonny grey,<br /> + He rade the richt gate and the ready;<br /> +I trow he would neither stint nor stay,<br /> + Far he was seeking his bonny leddy."<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>I did not wait to be twice bidden, and did justice to Miss Grant's +citation on the way to Dean.</p> + +<p>Old Lady Allardyce walked there alone in the garden, in her hat and +mutch, and having a silver-mounted staff of some black wood to lean upon. +As I alighted from my horse, and drew near to her with <i>congees</i>, I +could see the blood come in her face, and her head fling into the air like +what I had conceived of empresses.</p> + +<p>"What brings you to my poor door?" she cried, speaking high through her +nose. "I cannot bar it. The males of my house are dead and buried; I have +neither son nor husband to stand in the gate for me; any beggar can pluck +me by the baird<sup><a href="#fn18" name="rfn18">[18]</a></sup>--and a +baird there is, and that's the worst of it yet!" she added, partly to +herself.</p> + +<p>I was extremely put out at this reception, and the last remark, which +seemed like a daft wife's, left me near hand speechless.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a>[pg +242]</span>"I see I have fallen under your displeasure, ma'am," said I. +"Yet I will still be so bold as ask after Mistress Drummond."</p> + +<p>She considered me with a burning eye, her lips pressed close together +into twenty creases, her hand shaking on her staff. "This cows all!" she +cried. "Ye come to me to spier for her! Would God I knew!"</p> + +<p>"She is not here?" I cried.</p> + +<p>She threw up her chin and made a step and a cry at me, so that I fell +back incontinent.</p> + +<p>"Out upon your leeing throat!" she cried. "What! ye come and spier at +me! She's in jyle, whaur ye took her to--that's all there is to it. And of +a' the beings ever I beheld in breeks, to think it should be you! Ye timmer +scoun'rel, if I had a male left to my name I would have your jaicket dustit +till ye raired."</p> + +<p>I thought it not good to delay longer in that place because I remarked +her passion to be rising. As I turned to the horse-post she even followed +me; and I make no shame to confess that I rode away with the one stirrup on +and scrambling for the other.</p> + +<p>As I knew no other quarter where I could push my inquiries, there was +nothing left me but to return to the Advocate's. I was well received by the +four ladies, who were now in company together, and must give the news of +Prestongrange and what word went in the west country, at the most +inordinate length and with great <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" +id="Page_243"></a>[pg 243]</span>weariness to myself; while all the time +that young lady, with whom I so much desired to be alone again, observed me +quizzically and seemed to find pleasure in the sight of my impatience. At +last, after I had endured a meal with them, and was come very near the +point of appealing for an interview before her aunt, she went and stood by +the music case, and picking out a tune, sang to it on a high key--"He that +will not when he may, When he will he shall have nay." But this was the end +of her rigours, and presently, after making some excuse of which I have no +mind, she carried me away in private to her father's library. I should not +fail to say that she was dressed to the nines, and appeared extraordinary +handsome.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. David, sit ye down here and let us have a two-handed crack," +said she. "For I have much to tell you, and it appears besides that I have +been grossly unjust to your good taste."</p> + +<p>"In what manner, Mistress Grant?" I asked. "I trust I have never seemed +to fail in due respect."</p> + +<p>"I will be your surety, Mr. David," said she. "Your respect, whether to +yourself or your poor neighbours, has been always and most fortunately +beyond imitation. But that is by the question. You got a note from me?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"I was so bold as to suppose so upon inference," said I, "and it was +kindly thought upon."</p> + +<p>"It must have prodigiously surprised you," said she. <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a>[pg 244]</span>"But +let us begin with the beginning. You have not perhaps forgot a day when you +were so kind as to escort three very tedious misses to Hope Park? I have +the less cause to forget it myself, because you was so particular obliging +as to introduce me to some of the principles of the Latin grammar, a thing +which wrote itself profoundly on my gratitude."</p> + +<p>"I fear I was sadly pedantical," said I, overcome with confusion at the +memory. "You are only to consider I am quite unused with the society of +ladies."</p> + +<p>"I will say the less about the grammar then," she replied. "But how came +you to desert your charge? 'He has thrown her out, overboard, his ain dear +Annie!'" she hummed; "and his ain dear Annie and her two sisters had to +taigle home by theirselves like a string of green geese! It seems you +returned to my papa's, where you showed yourself excessively martial, and +then on to realms unknown, with an eye (it appears) to the Bass Rock; solan +geese being perhaps more to your mind than bonny lasses."</p> + +<p>Through all this raillery there was something indulgent in the lady's +eye which made me suppose there might be better coming.</p> + +<p>"You take a pleasure to torment me," said I, "and I make a very feckless +plaything; but let me ask you to be more merciful. At this time there is +but the one thing that I care to hear of, and that will be news of +Catriona."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a>[pg +245]</span>"Do you call her by that name to her face, Mr. Balfour?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"In troth, and I am not very sure," I stammered.</p> + +<p>"I would not do so in any case to strangers," said Miss Grant. "And why +are you so much immersed in the affairs of this young lady?"</p> + +<p>"I heard she was in prison," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, and now you hear that she is out of it," she replied, "and what +more would you have? She has no need of any further champion."</p> + +<p>"I may have the greater need of her, ma'am," said I.</p> + +<p>"Come, this is better!" says Miss Grant. "But look me fairly in the +face; am I not bonnier than she?"</p> + +<p>"I would be the last to be denying it," said I. "There is not your +marrow in all Scotland."</p> + +<p>"Well, here you have the pick of the two at your hand, and must needs +speak of the other," said she. "This is never the way to please the ladies, +Mr. Balfour."</p> + +<p>"But, mistress," said I, "there are surely other things besides mere +beauty."</p> + +<p>"By which I am to understand that I am no better than I should be, +perhaps?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"By which you will please understand that I am like the cock in the +midden in the fable book," said I. "I see the braw jewel--and I like fine +to see it too--but I have more need of the pickle corn."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a>[pg +246]</span>"Bravissimo!" she cried. "There is a word well said at last, and +I will reward you for it with my story. That same night of your desertion I +came late from a friend's house--where I was excessively admired, whatever +you may think of it--and what should I hear but that a lass in a tartan +screen desired to speak with me? She had been there an hour or better, said +the servant-lass, and she grat in to herself as she sat waiting. I went to +her direct; she rose as I came in, and I knew her at a look. '<i>Grey +Eyes!</i>' says I to myself, but was more wise than to let on. <i>You will +be Miss Grant at last?</i> she says, rising and looking at me hard and +pitiful. <i>Ay, it was true he said, you are bonny at all events.--The way +God made me, my dear</i>, I said, <i>but I would be gey and obliged if ye +could tell me what brought you here at such a time of the night--Lady</i>, +she said, <i>we are kinsfolk, we are both come of the blood of the sons of +Alpin.--My dear</i>, I replied, <i>I think no more of Alpin or his sons +than what I do of a kale-stock. You have a better argument in these tears +upon your bonny face</i>. And at that I was so weakminded as to kiss her, +which is what you would like to do dearly, and I wager will never find the +courage of. I say it was weakminded of me, for I knew no more of her than +the outside; but it was the wisest stroke I could have hit upon. She is a +very staunch, brave nature, but I think she has been little used with +tenderness; and at that caress (though to say the truth, it was but <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a>[pg 247]</span>lightly +given) her heart went out to me. I will never betray the secrets of my sex, +Mr. Davie; I will never tell you the way she turned me round her thumb, +because it is the same she will use to twist yourself. Ay, it is a fine +lass! She is as clean as hill well water."</p> + +<p>"She is e'en't!" I cried.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, she told me her concerns," pursued Miss Grant, "and in what +a swither she was in about her papa, and what a taking about yourself, with +very little cause, and in what a perplexity she had found herself after you +was gone away. <i>And then I minded at long last,</i> says she, <i>that we +were kinswomen, and that Mr. David should have given you the name of the +bonniest of the bonny, and I was thinking to myself 'If she is so bonny she +will be good at all events; and I took up my foot soles out of that</i>. +That was when I forgave yourself, Mr. Davie. When you was in my society, +you seemed upon hot iron; by all marks, if ever I saw a young man that +wanted to be gone, it was yourself, and I and my two sisters were the +ladies you were so desirous to be gone from; and now it appeared you had +given me some notice in the bygoing, and was so kind as to comment on my +attractions! From that hour you may date our friendship, and I began to +think with tenderness upon the Latin grammar."</p> + +<p>"You will have many hours to rally me in," said I, "and I think besides +you do yourself injustice, I think <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" +id="Page_248"></a>[pg 248]</span>it was Catriona turned your heart in my +direction, she is too simple to perceive as you do the stiffness of her +friend."</p> + +<p>"I would not like to wager upon that, Mr. David," said she. "The lasses +have clear eyes. But at least she is your friend entirely, as I was to see. +I carried her in to his lordship my papa; and his Advocacy, being in a +favourable stage of claret, was so good as to receive the pair of us. +<i>Here is Grey Eyes that you have been deaved with these days past</i>, +said I, <i>she is come to prove that we spoke true, and I lay the prettiest +lass in the three Lothians at your feet</i>--making a papistical +reservation of myself. She suited her action to my words; down she went +upon her knees to him--I would not like to swear but he saw two of her, +which doubtless made her appeal the more irresistible, for you are all a +pack of Mahomedans--told him what had passed that night, and how she had +withheld her father's man from following of you, and what a case she was in +about her father, and what a flutter for yourself; and begged with weeping +for the lives of both of you (neither of which was in the slightest danger) +till I vow I was proud of my sex because it was done so pretty, and ashamed +for it because of the smallness of the occasion. She had not gone far, I +assure you, before the Advocate was wholly sober, to see his inmost +politics ravelled out by a young lass and discovered to the most unruly of +his daughters. But we took him in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" +id="Page_249"></a>[pg 249]</span>hand, the pair of us, and brought that +matter straight. Properly managed--and that means managed by me--there is +no one to compare with my papa."</p> + +<p>"He has been a good man to me," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, he was a good man to Katrine, and I was there to see to it," said +she.</p> + +<p>"And she pled for me!" said I.</p> + +<p>"She did that, and very movingly," said Miss Grant. "I would not like to +tell you what she said, I find you vain enough already."</p> + +<p>"God reward her for it!" cried I.</p> + +<p>"With Mr. David Balfour, I suppose?" says she.</p> + +<p>"You do me too much injustice at the last!" I cried. "I would tremble to +think of her in such hard hands. Do you think I would presume, because she +begged my life? She would do that for a new whelped puppy! I have had more +than that to set me up, if you but ken'd. She kissed that hand of mine. Ay, +but she did. And why? because she thought I was playing a brave part and +might be going to my death. It was not for my sake, but I need not be +telling that to you that cannot look at me without laughter. It was for the +love of what she thought was bravery. I believe there is none but me and +poor Prince Charlie had that honour done them. Was this not to make a god +of me? and do you not think my heart would quake when I remember it?"</p> + +<p>"I do laugh at you a good deal, and a good deal <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a>[pg 250]</span>more than is quite civil," +said she; "but I will tell you one thing: if you speak to her like that, +you have some glimmerings of a chance."</p> + +<p>"Me?" I cried, "I would never dare. I can speak to you, Miss Grant, +because it's a matter of indifference what ye think of me. But her? no +fear!" said I.</p> + +<p>"I think you have the largest feet in all broad Scotland," says she.</p> + +<p>"Troth, they are no very small," said I, looking down.</p> + +<p>"Ah, poor Catriona!" cried Miss Grant.</p> + +<p>And I could but stare upon her; for though I now see very well what she +was driving at (and perhaps some justification for the same), I was never +swift at the uptake in such flimsy talk.</p> + +<p>"Ah well, Mr. David," she said, "it goes sore against my conscience, but +I see I shall have to be your speaking board. She shall know you came to +her straight upon the news of her imprisonment; she shall know you would +not pause to eat; and of your conversation she shall hear just so much as I +think convenient for a maid of her age and inexperience. Believe me, you +will be in that way much better served than you could serve yourself, for I +will keep the big feet out of the platter."</p> + +<p>"You know where she is, then?" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"That I do, Mr. David, and will never tell," said she.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a>[pg +251]</span>"Why that?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "I am a good friend, as you will soon discover; and +the chief of those that I am a friend to is my papa. I assure you, you will +never heat nor melt me out of that, so you may spare me your sheep's eyes; +and adieu to your David-Balfourship for the now."</p> + +<p>"But there is yet one thing more," I cried. "There is one thing that +must be stopped, being mere ruin to herself, and to me too."</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "be brief, I have spent half the day on you +already."</p> + +<p>"My Lady Allardyce believes," I began, "she supposes--she thinks that I +abducted her."</p> + +<p>The colour came into Miss Grant's face, so that at first I was quite +abashed to find her ear so delicate, till I bethought me she was struggling +rather with mirth, a notion in which I was altogether confirmed by the +shaking of her voice as she replied--</p> + +<p>"I will take up the defence of your reputation," said she. "You may +leave it in my hands."</p> + +<p>And with that she withdrew out of the library.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a>[pg +252]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XX'></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>I CONTINUE TO MOVE IN GOOD SOCIETY</h3> + + +<p>For about exactly two months I remained a guest in Prestongrange's +family, where I bettered my acquaintance with the bench, the bar, and the +flower of Edinburgh company. You are not to suppose my education was +neglected, on the contrary I was kept extremely busy. I studied the French, +so as to be more prepared to go to Leyden; I set myself to the fencing, and +wrought hard, sometimes three hours in the day, with notable advancement; +at the suggestion of my cousin, Pilrig, who was an apt musician, I was put +to a singing class, and by the orders of my Miss Grant, to one for the +dancing, at which. I must say I proved far from ornamental. However, all +were good enough to say it gave me an address a little more genteel; and +there is no question but I learned to manage my coat skirts and sword with +more dexterity, and to stand in a room as though the same belonged to me. +My clothes themselves were all earnestly re-ordered; and the most trifling +circumstance, such as where I should tie my hair, or the colour of my +ribbon, debated among the three misses like a thing of weight. One way with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a>[pg +253]</span>another, no doubt I was a good deal improved to look at, and +acquired a bit of a modish air that would have surprised the good folks at +Essendean.</p> + +<p>The two younger misses were very willing to discuss a point of my +habiliment, because that was in the line of their chief thoughts. I cannot +say that they appeared any other way conscious of my presence; and though +always more than civil, with a kind of heartless cordiality, could not hide +how much I wearied them. As for the aunt, she was a wonderful still woman; +and I think she gave me much the same attention as she gave the rest of the +family, which was little enough. The eldest daughter and the Advocate +himself were thus my principal friends, and our familiarity was much +increased by a pleasure that we took in common. Before the court met we +spent a day or two at the house of Grange, living very nobly with an open +table, and here it was that we three began to ride out together in the +fields, a practice afterwards maintained in Edinburgh, so far as the +Advocate's continual affairs permitted. When we were put in a good frame by +the briskness of the exercise, the difficulties of the way, or the +accidents of bad weather, my shyness wore entirely off; we forgot that we +were strangers, and speech not being required, it flowed the more naturally +on. Then it was that they had my story from me, bit by bit, from the time +that I left Essendean, with my voyage and battle in the <i>Covenant</i>, +wanderings in the heather, etc.; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" +id="Page_254"></a>[pg 254]</span>and from the interest they found in my +adventures sprung the circumstance of a jaunt we made a little later on, a +day when the courts were not sitting, and of which I will tell a trifle +more at length.</p> + +<p>We took horse early, and passed first by the house of Shaws, where it +stood smokeless in a great field of white frost, for it was yet early in +the day. Here Prestongrange alighted down, gave me his horse, and proceeded +alone to visit my uncle. My heart, I remember, swelled up bitter within me +at the sight of that bare house and the thought of the old miser sitting +chittering within in the cold kitchen.</p> + +<p>"There is my home," said I. "And my family."</p> + +<p>"Poor David Balfour!" said Miss Grant.</p> + +<p>What passed during the visit I have never heard; but it would doubtless +not be very agreeable to Ebenezer; for when the Advocate came forth again +his face was dark.</p> + +<p>"I think you will soon be the laird indeed, Mr. Davie," says he, turning +half about with the one foot in the stirrup.</p> + +<p>"I will never pretend sorrow," said I; and, to say the truth, during his +absence Miss Grant and I had been embellishing the place in fancy with +plantations, parterres, and a terrace, much as I have since carried out in +fact.</p> + +<p>Thence we pushed to the Queensferry, where Rankeillor gave us a good +welcome, being indeed out of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" +id="Page_255"></a>[pg 255]</span>body to receive so great a visitor. Here +the Advocate was so unaffectedly good as to go quite fully over my affairs, +sitting perhaps two hours with the Writer in his study, and expressing (I +was told) a great esteem for myself and concern for my fortunes. To while +this time, Miss Grant and I and young Rankeillor took boat and passed the +Hope to Limekilns. Rankeillor made himself very ridiculous (and, I thought +offensive) with his admiration for the young lady, and to my wonder (only +it is so common a weakness of her sex) she seemed, if anything, to be a +little gratified. One use it had: for when we were come to the other side, +she laid her commands on him to mind the boat, while she and I passed a +little further to the ale-house. This was her own thought, for she had been +taken with my account of Alison Hastie, and desired to see the lass +herself. We found her once more alone--indeed, I believe her father wrought +all day in the fields--and she curtsied dutifully to the gentry-folk and +the beautiful young lady in the riding coat.</p> + +<p>"Is this all the welcome I am to get?" said I, holding out my hand. "And +have you no more memory of old friends?"</p> + +<p>"Keep me! wha's this of it?" she cried, and then, "God's truth, it's the +tautit<sup><a href="#fn19" name="rfn19">[19]</a></sup> laddie!"</p> + +<p>"The very same," says I.</p> + +<p>"Mony's the time I've thocht upon you and your <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a>[pg 256]</span>freen, and blythe am I to +see in your braws,"<sup><a href="#fn20" name="rfn20">[20]</a></sup> she +cried. "Though I kent ye were come to your ain folk by the grand present +that ye sent me and that I thank ye for with a' my heart."</p> + +<p>"There," said Miss Grant to me, "run out by with ye, like a good bairn. +I didnae come here to stand and hand a candle; it's her and me that are to +crack."</p> + +<p>I suppose she stayed ten minutes in the house, but when she came forth I +observed two things--that her eyes were reddened, and a silver brooch was +gone out of her bosom. This very much affected me.</p> + +<p>"I never saw you so well adorned," said I.</p> + +<p>"O Davie man, dinna be a pompous gowk!" said she, and was more than +usually sharp to me the remainder of the day.</p> + +<p>About candlelight we came home from this excursion.</p> + +<p>For a good while I heard nothing further of Catriona: my Miss Grant +remaining quite impenetrable, and stopping my mouth with pleasantries. At +last, one day that she returned from walking and found me alone in the +parlour over my French, I thought there was something unusual in her looks; +the colour heightened, the eyes sparkling high, and a bit of a smile +continually bitten in as she regarded me. She seemed indeed like the very +spirit of mischief, and walking briskly in the room, had soon involved me +in a kind of quarrel over nothing and (at the least) with nothing intended +on my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a>[pg +257]</span>side. I was like Christian in the slough; the more I tried to +clamber out upon the side, the deeper I became involved; until at last I +heard her declare, with a great deal of passion, that she would take that +answer at the hands of none, and I must down upon my knees for pardon.</p> + +<p>The causelessness of all this fuff stirred my own bile. "I have said +nothing you can properly object to," said I, "and as for my knees, that is +an attitude I keep for God."</p> + +<p>"And as a goddess I am to be served!" she cried, shaking her brown locks +at me and with a bright colour. "Every man that comes within waft of my +petticoats shall use me so!"</p> + +<p>"I will go so far as ask your pardon for the fashion's sake, although I +vow I know not why," I replied. "But for these play-acting postures, you +can go to others."</p> + +<p>"O Davie!" she said. "Not if I was to beg you?"</p> + +<p>I bethought me I was fighting with a woman, which is the same as to say +a child, and that upon a point entirely formal.</p> + +<p>"I think it a bairnly thing," I said, "not worthy in you to ask, or me +to render. Yet I will not refuse you, neither," said I; "and the stain, if +there be any, rests with yourself." And at that I kneeled fairly down.</p> + +<p>"There!" she cried. "There is the proper station, there is where I have +been manoeuvring to bring you." <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" +id="Page_258"></a>[pg 258]</span>And then, suddenly, "Kep,"<sup><a +href="#fn21" name="rfn21">[21]</a></sup> said she, flung me a folded +billet, and ran from the apartment laughing.</p> + +<p>The billet had neither place nor date. "Dear Mr. David," it began, "I +get your news continually by my cousin, Miss Grant, and it is a pleisand +hearing. I am very well, in a good place, among good folk, but necessitated +to be quite private, though I am hoping that at long last we may meet +again. All your friendships have been told me by my loving cousin, who +loves us both. She bids me to send you this writing, and oversees the same. +I will be asking you to do all her commands, and rest your affectionate +friend, Catriona Macgregor-Drummond. P.S.--Will you not see my cousin, +Allardyce?"</p> + +<p>I think it not the least brave of my campaigns (as the soldiers say) +that I should have done as I was here bidden and gone forthright to the +house by Dean. But the old lady was now entirely changed and supple as a +glove. By what means Miss Grant had brought this round I could never guess; +I am sure at least, she dared not to appear openly in the affair, for her +papa was compromised in it pretty deep. It was he, indeed, who had +persuaded Catriona to leave, or rather, not to return, to her cousin's, +placing her instead with a family of Gregorys, decent people, quite at the +Advocate's disposition, and in whom she might have the more confidence +because they were of her own clan and family. <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a>[pg 259]</span>These kept her private +till all was ripe, heated and helped her to attempt her father's rescue, +and after she was discharged from prison received her again into the same +secrecy. Thus Prestongrange obtained and used his instrument; nor did there +leak out the smallest word of his acquaintance with the daughter of James +More. There was some whispering, of course, upon the escape of that +discredited person; but the Government replied by a show of rigour, one of +the cell porters was flogged, the lieutenant of the guard (my poor friend, +Duncansby) was broken of his rank, and as for Catriona, all men were well +enough pleased that her fault should be passed by in silence.</p> + +<p>I could never induce Miss Grant to carry back an answer. "No," she would +say, when I persisted, "I am going to keep the big feet out of the +platter." This was the more hard to bear, as I was aware she saw my little +friend many times in the week, and carried her my news whenever (as she +said) I "had behaved myself." At last she treated me to what she called an +indulgence, and I thought rather more of a banter. She was certainly a +strong, almost a violent friend, to all she liked; chief among whom was a +certain frail old gentlewoman, very blind, and very witty, who dwelt in the +top of a tall land on a strait close, with a nest of linnets in a cage, and +thronged all day with visitors. Miss Grant was very fond to carry me there +and put me to entertain her friend with the narrative of my misfortunes; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a>[pg +260]</span>and Miss Tibbie Ramsay (that was her name) was particular kind, +and told me a great deal that was worth knowledge of old folks and past +affairs in Scotland. I should say that from her chamber window, and not +three feet away, such is the straitness of that close, it was possible to +look into a barred loophole lighting the stairway of the opposite +house.</p> + +<p>Here, upon some pretext, Miss Grant left me one day alone with Miss +Ramsay. I mind I thought that lady inattentive and like one preoccupied. I +was besides yery uncomfortable, for the window, contrary to custom, was +left open and the day was cold. All at once the voice of Miss Grant sounded +in my ears as from a distance.</p> + +<p>"Here, Shaws!" she cried, "keek out of the window and see what I have +broughten you."</p> + +<p>I think it was the prettiest sight that ever I beheld; the well of the +close was all in clear shadow where a man could see distinctly, the walls +very black and dingy; and there from the barred loophole I saw two faces +smiling across at me--Miss Grant's and Catriona's.</p> + +<p>"There!" says Miss Grant, "I wanted her to see you in your braws like +the lass of Limekilns. I wanted her to see what I could make of you, when I +buckled to the job in earnest!"</p> + +<p>It came in my mind she had been more than common particular that day +upon my dress: and I think that some of the same care had been bestowed +upon Catriona. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" +id="Page_261"></a>[pg 261]</span>For so merry and sensible a lady, Miss +Grant was certainly wonderful taken up with duds.</p> + +<p>"Catriona!" was all I could get out.</p> + +<p>As for her, she said nothing in the world, but only waved her hand and +smiled to me, and was suddenly carried away again from before the +loophole.</p> + +<p>The vision was no sooner lost than I ran to the house door, where I +found I was locked in; thence back to Miss Ramsay, crying for the key, but +might as well have cried upon the castle rock. She had passed her word, she +said, and I must be a good lad. It was impossible to burst the door, even +if it had been mannerly; it was impossible I should leap from the window, +being seven storeys above ground. All I could do was to crane over the +close and watch for their reappearance from the stair. It was little to +see, being no more than the tops of their two heads each on a ridiculous +bobbin of skirts, like to a pair of pincushions. Nor did Catriona so much +as look up for a farewell; being prevented (as I heard afterwards) by Miss +Grant, who told her folk were never seen to less advantage than from above +downward.</p> + +<p>On the way home, as soon as I was set free, I upbraided Miss Grant with +her cruelty.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you was disappointed," says she demurely. "For my part I was +very pleased. You looked better than I dreaded; you looked--if it will not +make you vain--a mighty pretty young man when you appeared <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a>[pg 262]</span>in the +window. You are to remember that she could not see your feet," says she, +with the manner of one reassuring me.</p> + +<p>"O!" cried I, "leave my feet be, they are no bigger than my +neighbor's."</p> + +<p>"They are even smaller than some," said she, "but I speak in parables +like a Hebrew prophet."</p> + +<p>"I marvel little they were sometimes stoned!" says I. "But you miserable +girl, how could you do it? Why should you care to tantalise me with a +moment?"</p> + +<p>"Love is like folk," says she, "it needs some kind of vivers."<sup><a +href="#fn22" name="rfn22">[22]</a></sup></p> + +<p>"O, Barbara, let me see her properly!" I pleaded. "<i>You</i> can, you +see her when you please; let me have half an hour."</p> + +<p>"Who is it that is managing this love affair? You? Or me?" she asked, +and as I continued to press her with my instances, fell back upon a deadly +expedient: that of imitating the tones of my voice when I called on +Catriona by name; with which, indeed, she held me in subjection for some +days to follow.</p> + +<p>There was never the least word heard of the memorial, or none by me. +Prestongrange and his grace the Lord President may have heard of it (for +what I know) on the deafest sides of their heads; they kept it to +themselves, at least; the public was none the wiser; and in course of time, +on November 8th, and in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" +id="Page_263"></a>[pg 263]</span>midst of a prodigious storm of wind and +rain, poor James of the Glens was duly hanged at Lettermore by +Balachulish.</p> + +<p>So there was the final upshot of my politics! Innocent men have perished +before James, and are like to keep on perishing (in spite of all our +wisdom) till the end of time. And till the end of time, young folk (who are +not yet used with the duplicity of life and men) will struggle as I did, +and make heroical resolves, and take long risks; and the course of events +will push them upon the one side and go on like a marching army. James was +hanged; and here was I dwelling in the house of Prestongrange, and grateful +to him for his fatherly attention. He was hanged; and behold! When I met +Mr. Symon in the causeway, I was fain to pull off my beaver to him like a +good little boy before his dominie. He had been hanged by fraud and +violence, and the world wagged along, and there was not a pennyweight of +difference; and the villains of that horrid plot were decent, kind, +respectable fathers of families, who went to kirk and took the +sacrament!</p> + +<p>But I had had my view of that detestable business they call politics--I +had seen it from behind, when it is all bones and blackness; and I was +cured for life of any temptations to take part in it again. A plain, quiet, +private path was that which I was ambitious to walk in, when I might keep +my head out of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" +id="Page_264"></a>[pg 264]</span>way of dangers and my conscience out of +the road of temptation. For, upon a retrospect, it appeared I had not done +so grandly, after all; but with the greatest possible amount of big speech +and preparation, had accomplished nothing.</p> + +<p>The 25th of the same month, a ship was advertised to sail from Leith; +and I was suddenly recommended to make up my mails for Leyden. To +Prestongrange I could, of course, say nothing; for I had already been a +long while sorning on his house and table. But with his daughter I was more +open, bewailing my fate that I should be sent out of the country, and +assuring her, unless she should bring me to farewell with Catriona, I would +refuse at the last hour.</p> + +<p>"Have I not given you my advice?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I know you have," said I, "and I know how much I am beholden to you +already, and that I am bidden to obey your orders. But you must confess you +are something too merry a lass at times to lippen<sup><a href="#fn23" +name="rfn23">[23]</a></sup> to entirely."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, then," said she. "Be you on board at nine o'clock +forenoon; the ship does not sail before one; keep your boat alongside; and +if you are not pleased with my farewells when I shall send them, you can +come ashore again and seek Katrine for yourself."</p> + +<p>Since I could make no more of her, I was fain to be content with +this.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a>[pg +265]</span>The day came round at last when she and I were to separate. We +had been extremely intimate and familiar; I was much in her debt; and what +way we were to part was a thing that put me from my sleep, like the vails I +was to give to the domestic servants. I knew she considered me too +backward, and rather desired to rise in her opinion on that head. Besides +which, after so much affection shown and (I believe) felt upon both sides, +it would have looked cold-like to be anyways stiff. Accordingly, I got my +courage up and my words ready, and the last chance we were like to be +alone, asked pretty boldly to be allowed to salute her in farewell.</p> + +<p>"You forget yourself strangely, Mr. Balfour," said she. "I cannot call +to mind that I had given you any right to presume on our acquaintancy."</p> + +<p>I stood before her like a stopped clock, and knew not what to think, far +less to say, when of a sudden she cast her arms about my neck and kissed me +with the best will in the world.</p> + +<p>"You inimitable bairn!" she cried. "Did you think that I would let us +part like strangers? Because I can never keep my gravity at you five +minutes on end, you must not dream I do not love you very well; I am all +love and laughter, every time I cast an eye on you! And now I will give you +an advice to conclude your education, which you will have need of before +its very long. Never <i>ask</i> women-folk. They're <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a>[pg 266]</span>bound +to answer 'No'; God never made the lass that could resist the temptation. +It's supposed by divines to be the curse of Eve; because she did not say it +when the devil offered her the apple, her daughters can say nothing +else."</p> + +<p>"Since I am so soon to lose my bonny professor," I began.</p> + +<p>"This is gallant, indeed," says she curtseying.</p> + +<p>"--I would put the one question," I went on; "May I ask a lass to marry +me?"</p> + +<p>"You think you could not marry her without?" she asked. "Or else get her +to offer?"</p> + +<p>"You see you cannot be serious," said I.</p> + +<p>"I shall be very serious in one thing, David," said she. "I shall always +be your friend."</p> + +<p>As I got to my horse the next morning, the four ladies were all at the +same window whence we had once looked down on Catriona, and all cried +farewell and waved their pocket napkins as I rode away; one out of the four +I knew was truly sorry; and at the thought of that, and how I had come to +the door three months ago for the first time, sorrow and gratitude made a +confusion in my mind.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a>[pg +267]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='Part_II'></a>Part II</h2> + +<h3>FATHER AND DAUGHTER</h3> + +<hr /> + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXI'></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE VOYAGE INTO HOLLAND</h3> + + +<p>The ship lay at a single anchor, well outside the pier of Leith, so that +all we passengers must come to it by the means of skiffs. This was very +little troublesome, for the reason that the day was a flat calm, very +frosty and cloudy, and with a low shifting fog upon the water. The body of +the vessel was thus quite hid as I drew near, but the tall spars of her +stood high and bright in a sunshine like the flickering of a fire. She +proved to be a very roomy, commodious merchant, but somewhat blunt in the +bows, and loaden extraordinary deep with salt, salted salmon, and fine +white linen stockings for the Dutch. Upon my coming on board, the captain +welcomed me, one Sang (out of Lesmahago, I believe), a very hearty, +friendly tarpauling of a man, but at the moment in rather of a bustle. +There had no other of the passengers yet appeared, so that I was left to +walk about upon the deck, viewing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" +id="Page_268"></a>[pg 268]</span>the prospect and wondering a good deal +what these farewells should be which I was promised.</p> + +<p>All Edinburgh and the Pentland Hills glinted above me in a kind of +smuisty brightness, now and again overcome with blots of cloud; of Leith +there was no more than the tops of chimneys visible, and on the face of the +water, where the haar<sup><a href="#fn24" name="rfn24">[24]</a></sup> lay, +nothing at all. Out of this I was presently aware of a sound of oars +pulling, and a little after (as if out of the smoke of a fire) a boat +issued. There sat a grave man in the stern sheets, well muffled from the +cold, and by his side a tall, pretty, tender figure of a maid that brought +my heart to a stand. I had scarce the time to catch my breath in, and be +ready to meet her, as she stepped upon the deck, smiling, and making my +best bow, which was now vastly finer than some months before when I first +made it to her ladyship. No doubt we were both a good deal changed; she +seemed to have shot up taller, like a young, comely tree. She had now a +kind of pretty backwardness that became her well, as of one that regarded +herself more highly and was fairly woman; and for another thing, the hand +of the same magician had been at work upon the pair of us, and Miss Grant +had made us both <i>braw</i>, if she could make but the one +<i>bonny</i>.</p> + +<p>The same cry, in words not very different, came from both of us, that +the other was come in compliment to <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a>[pg 269]</span>say farewell, and then we +perceived in a flash we were to ship together.</p> + +<p>"O, why will not Baby have been telling me!" she cried; and then +remembered a letter she had been given, on the condition of not opening it +till she was well on board. Within was an enclosure for myself, and ran +thus:</p> + +<blockquote> +"DEAR DAVIE,--What do you think of my farewell? and what +do you say to your fellow-passenger? Did you kiss, or did you +ask? I was about to have signed here, but that would leave the +purport of my question doubtful; and in my own case <i>I ken the +answer</i>. So fill up here with good advice. Do not be too blate,<sup><a +href="#fn25" name="rfn25">[25]</a></sup> +and for God's sake do not try to be too forward; nothing sets you +worse. I am + +<p>"Your affectionate friend and governess,</p> + +<p>"BARBARA GRANT."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>I wrote a word of answer and compliment on a leaf out of my pocketbook, +put it in with another scratch from Catriona, sealed the whole with my new +signet of the Balfour arms, and despatched it by the hand of +Prestongrange's servant that still waited in my boat.</p> + +<p>Then we had time to look upon each other more at leisure, which we had +not done for a piece of a minute before (upon a common impulse) we shook +hands again.</p> + +<p>"Catriona!" said I; it seemed that was the first and last word of my +eloquence.</p> + +<p>"You will be glad to see me again?" says she.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a>[pg +270]</span>"And I think that is an idle word," said I. "We are too deep +friends to make speech upon such trifles."</p> + +<p>"Is she not the girl of all the world?" she cried again. "I was never +knowing such a girl, so honest and so beautiful."</p> + +<p>"And yet she cared no more for Alpin than what she did for a +kale-stock," said I.</p> + +<p>"Ah, she will say so indeed!" cries Catriona. "Yet it was for the name +and the gentle kind blood that she took me up and was so good to me."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will tell you why it was," said I. "There are all sorts of +people's faces in this world. There is Barbara's face, that everyone must +look at and admire, and think her a fine, brave, merry girl. And then there +is your face, which is quite different, I never knew how different till +to-day. You cannot see yourself, and that is why you do not understand; but +it was for the love of your face that she took you up and was so good to +you. And everybody in the world would do the same."</p> + +<p>"Everybody?" says she.</p> + +<p>"Every living soul!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Ah, then, that will be why the soldiers at the castle took me up!" she +cried.</p> + +<p>"Barbara has been teaching you to catch me," said I.</p> + +<p>"She will have taught me more than that at all events. She will have +taught me a great deal about Mr. David--all the ill of him, and a little +that was not so ill either now and then," she said, smiling. "She will +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a>[pg +271]</span>have told me all there was of Mr. David, only just that he would +sail upon this very same ship. And why is it you go?"</p> + +<p>I told her.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," said she, "we will be some days in company and then (I +suppose) good-bye for altogether! I go to meet my father at a place of the +name of Helvoetsluys, and from there to France, to be exiles by the side of +our chieftain."</p> + +<p>I could say no more than just "O!" the name of James More always drying +up my very voice.</p> + +<p>She was quick to perceive it, and to guess some portion of my +thought.</p> + +<p>"There is one thing I must be saying first of all, Mr. David," said she. +"I think two of my kinsfolk have not behaved to you altogether very well. +And the one of them two is James More, my father, and the other is the +Laird of Prestongrange. Prestongrange will have spoken by himself, or his +daughter in the place of him. But for James More, my father, I have this +much to say: he lay shackled in a prison; he is a plain honest soldier and +a plain Highland gentleman; what they would be after, he never would be +guessing; but if he had understood it was to be some prejudice to a young +gentleman like yourself, he would have died first. And for the sake of all +your friendships, I will be asking you to pardon my father and family for +that same mistake."</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said I, "what that mistake was I do not <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a>[pg 272]</span>care to +know. I know but the one thing, that you went to Prestongrange and begged +my life upon your knees. O, I ken well it was for your father that you +went, but when you were there you pleaded for me also. It is a thing I +cannot speak of. There are two things I cannot think of in to myself; and +the one is your good words when you called yourself my little friend, and +the other that you pleaded for my life. Let us never speak more, we two, of +pardon or offence."</p> + +<p>We stood after that silent, Catriona looking on the deck and I on her; +and before there was more speech, a little wind having sprung up, in the +nor'-west, they began to shake out the sails and heave in upon the +anchor.</p> + +<p>There were six passengers besides our two selves, which made of it a +full cabin. Three were solid merchants out of Leith, Kirkaldy, and Dundee, +all engaged in the same adventure into High Germany; one was a Hollander +returning; the rest worthy merchants' wives, to the charge of one of whom +Catriona was recommended. Mrs. Grebbie (for that was her name) was by great +good fortune heavily incommoded by the sea, and lay day and night on the +broad of her back. We were besides the only creatures at all young on board +the <i>Rose</i>, except a white-faced boy that did my old duty to attend +upon the table; and it came about that Catriona and I were left almost +entirely to ourselves. We had the next seats together at the table, where I +waited on her with extraordinary pleasure. On deck, I made her a soft place +with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a>[pg +273]</span>my cloak; and the weather being singularly fine for that season, +with bright frosty days and nights, a steady, gentle wind, and scarce a +sheet started all the way through the North Sea, we sat there (only now and +again walking to and fro for warmth) from the first blink of the sun till +eight or nine at night under the clear stars. The merchants or Captain Sang +would sometimes glance and smile upon us, or pass a merry word or two and +give us the go-by again; but the most part of the time they were deep in +herring and chintzes and linen, or in computations of the slowness of the +passage, and left us to our own concerns, which were very little important +to any but ourselves.</p> + +<p>At the first, we had a great deal to say, and thought ourselves pretty +witty; and I was at a little pains to be the <i>beau</i>, and she (I +believe) to play the young lady of experience. But soon we grew plainer +with each other; I laid aside my high, clipped English (what little there +was of it) and forgot to make my Edinburgh bows and scrapes; she upon her +side, fell into a sort of kind familiarity; and we dwelt together like +those of the same household, only (upon my side) with a more deep emotion. +About the same time, the bottom seemed to fall out of our conversation, and +neither one of us the less pleased. Whiles she would tell me old wives' +tales, of which she had a wonderful variety, many of them from my friend +red-headed Niel. She told them very pretty, and they were pretty enough +childish tales; but <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" +id="Page_274"></a>[pg 274]</span>the pleasure to myself was in the sound of +her voice, and the thought that she was telling and I listening. Whiles, +again, we would sit entirely silent, not communicating even with a look, +and tasting pleasure enough in the sweetness of that neighbourhood. I speak +here only for myself. Of what was in the maid's mind, I am not very sure +that ever I asked myself; and what was in my own, I was afraid to consider. +I need make no secret of it now, either to myself or to the reader: I was +fallen totally in love. She came between me and the sun. She had grown +suddenly taller, as I say, but with a wholesome growth; she seemed all +health, and lightness, and brave spirits; and I thought she walked like a +young deer, and stood like a birch upon the mountains. It was enough for me +to sit near by her on the deck; and I declare I scarce spent two thoughts +upon the future, and was so well content with what I then enjoyed that I +was never at the pains to imagine any further step; unless perhaps that I +would be sometimes tempted to take her hand in mine and hold it there. But +I was too like a miser of what joys I had and would venture nothing on a +hazard.</p> + +<p>What we spoke was usually of ourselves or of each other, so that if +anyone had been at so much pains as overhear us, he must have supposed us +the most egotistical persons in the world. It befell one day when we were +at this practice, that we came on a discourse of friends and friendship, +and I think now that we were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" +id="Page_275"></a>[pg 275]</span>sailing near the wind. We said what a fine +thing friendship was, and how little we had guessed of it, and how it made +life a new thing, and a thousand covered things of the same kind that will +have been said, since the foundation of the world, by young folk in the +same predicament. Then we remarked upon the strangeness of that +circumstance, that friends came together in the beginning as if they were +there for the first time, and yet each had been alive a good while, losing +time with other people.</p> + +<p>"It is not much that I have done," said she, "and I could be telling you +the five-fifths of it in two-three words. It is only a girl I am, and what +can befall a girl, at all events? But I went with the clan in the year '45. +The men marched with swords and firelocks, and some of them in brigades in +the same set of tartan; they were not backward at the marching, I can tell +you. And there were gentlemen from the Low Country, with their tenants +mounted and trumpets to sound, and there was a grand skirling of war-pipes. +I rode on a little Highland horse on the right hand of my father, James +More, and of Glengyle himself. And here is one fine thing that I remember, +that Glengyle kissed me in the face, because (says he) 'my kinswoman, you +are the only lady of the clan that has come out,' and me a little maid of +maybe twelve years old! I saw Prince Charlie too, and the blue eyes of him; +he was pretty indeed! I had his hand to kiss in <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a>[pg 276]</span>the front of the army. O, +well, these were the good days, but it is all like a dream that I have seen +and then awakened. It went what way you very well know; and these were the +worst days of all, when the red-coat soldiers were out, and my father and +my uncles lay in the hill, and I was to be carrying them their meat in the +middle night, or at the short side of day when the cocks crow. Yes, I have +walked in the night, many's the time, and my heart great in me for terror +of the darkness. It is a strange thing I will never have been meddled with +a bogle; but they say a maid goes safe. Next there was my uncle's marriage, +and that was a dreadful affair beyond all. Jean Kay was that woman's name; +and she had me in the room with her that night at Inversnaid, the night we +took her from her friends in the old, ancient manner. She would and she +wouldn't; she was for marrying Rob the one minute, and the next she would +be for none of him. I will never have seen such a feckless creature of a +woman; surely all there was of her would tell her ay or no. Well, she was a +widow, and I can never be thinking a widow a good woman."</p> + +<p>"Catriona!" says I, "how do you make out that?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know," said she; "I am only telling you the seeming in my +heart. And then to marry a new man! Fy! But that was her; and she was +married again upon my Uncle Robin, and went with him awhile to kirk and +market; and then wearied, or else her <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a>[pg 277]</span>friends got claught of her +and talked her round, or maybe she turned ashamed; at the least of it, she +ran away, and went back to her own folk, and said we had held her in the +lake, and I will never tell you all what. I have never thought much of any +females since that day. And so in the end my father, James More, came to be +cast in prison, and you know the rest of it as well as me."</p> + +<p>"And through all you had no friends?" said I.</p> + +<p>"No," said she; "I have been pretty chief with two-three lasses on the +braes, but not to call it friends."</p> + +<p>"Well, mine is a plain tale," said I. "I never had a friend to my name +till I met in with you."</p> + +<p>"And that brave Mr. Stewart?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"O, yes, I was forgetting him," I said. "But he is a man, and that is +very different."</p> + +<p>"I would think so," said she. "O, yes, it is quite different."</p> + +<p>"And then there was one other," said I. "I once thought I had a friend, +but it proved a disappointment."</p> + +<p>She asked me who she was?</p> + +<p>"It was a he, then," said I. "We were the two best lads at my father's +school, and we thought we loved each other dearly. Well, the time came when +he went to Glasgow to a merchant's house, that was his second cousin once +removed; and wrote me two-three times by <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a>[pg 278]</span>the carrier; and then he +found new friends, and I might write till I was tired, he took no notice. +Eh, Catriona, it took me a long while to forgive the world. There is not +anything more bitter than to lose a fancied friend."</p> + +<p>Then she began to question me close upon his looks and character, for we +were each a great deal concerned in all that touched the other; till at +last, in a very evil hour, I minded of his letters and went and fetched the +bundle from the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Here are his letters," said I, "and all the letters that ever I got. +That will be the last I'll can tell of myself; you know the lave<sup><a +href="#fn26" name="rfn26">[26]</a></sup> as well as I do."</p> + +<p>"Will you let me read them, then?" says she.</p> + +<p>I told her, <i>if she would be at the pains</i>; and she bade me go away +and she would read them from the one end to the other. Now, in this bundle +that I gave her, there were packed together not only all the letters of my +false friend, but one or two of Mr. Campbell's when he was in town at the +Assembly, and to make a complete roll of all that ever was written to me, +Catriona's little word, and the two I had received from Miss Grant, one +when I was on the Bass and one on board that ship. But of these last I had +no particular mind at the moment.</p> + +<p>I was in that state of subjection to the thought of my friend that it +mattered not what I did, nor scarce <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a>[pg 279]</span>whether I was in her +presence or out of it; I had caught her like some kind of a noble fever +that lived continually in my bosom, by night and by day, and whether I was +waking or asleep. So it befell that after I was come into the fore-part of +the ship where the broad bows splashed into the billows, I was in no such +hurry to return as you might fancy; rather prolonged my absence like a +variety in pleasure. I do not think I am by nature much of an Epicurean; +and there had come till then so small a share of pleasure in my way that I +might be excused perhaps to dwell on it unduly.</p> + +<p>When I returned to her again, I had a faint, painful impression as of a +buckle slipped, so coldly she returned the packet.</p> + +<p>"You have read them?" said I; and I thought my voice sounded not wholly +natural, for I was turning in my mind for what could ail her.</p> + +<p>"Did you mean me to read all?" she asked.</p> + +<p>I told her "Yes," with a drooping voice.</p> + +<p>"The last of them as well?" said she.</p> + +<p>I knew where we were now; yet I would not lie to her either. "I gave +them all without after-thought," I said, "as I supposed that you would read +them. I see no harm in any."</p> + +<p>"I will be differently made," said she. "I thank God I am differently +made. It was not a fit letter to be shown me. It was not fit to be +written."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a>[pg +280]</span>"I think you are speaking of your own friend, Barbara Grant?" +said I.</p> + +<p>"There will not be anything as bitter as to lose a fancied friend," said +she, quoting my own expression.</p> + +<p>"I think it is sometimes the friendship that was fancied!" I cried. +"What kind of justice do you call this, to blame me for some words that a +tomfool of a madcap lass has written down upon a piece of paper? You know +yourself with what respect I have behaved--and would do always."</p> + +<p>"Yet you would show me that same letter!" says she. "I want no such +friends. I can be doing very well, Mr. Balfour, without her--or you."</p> + +<p>"This is your fine gratitude!" says I.</p> + +<p>"I am very much obliged to you," said she. "I will be asking you to take +away your--letters." She seemed to choke upon the word, so that it sounded +like an oath.</p> + +<p>"You shall never ask twice," said I; picked up that bundle, walked a +little way forward and cast them as far as possible into the sea. For a +very little more, I could have cast myself after them.</p> + +<p>The rest of the day I walked up and down raging. There were few names so +ill but what I gave her them in my own mind before the sun went down. All +that I had ever heard of Highland pride seemed quite outdone; that a girl +(scarce grown) should resent so trifling an allusion, and that from her +next friend, that she <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" +id="Page_281"></a>[pg 281]</span>had near wearied me with praising of! I +had bitter, sharp, hard thoughts of her, like an angry boy's. If I had +kissed her indeed (I thought), perhaps she would have taken it pretty well; +and only because it had been written down, and with a spice of jocularity, +up she must fuff in this ridiculous passion. It seemed to me there was a +want of penetration in the female sex, to make angels weep over the case of +the poor men.</p> + +<p>We were side by side again at supper, and what a change was there! She +was like curdled milk to me; her face was like a wooden doll's; I could +have indifferently smitten her or grovelled at her feet, but she gave me +not the least occasion to do either. No sooner the meal done than she +betook herself to attend on Mrs. Gebbie, which I think she had a little +neglected heretofore. But she was to make up for lost time, and in what +remained of the passage was extraordinary assiduous with the old lady, and +on deck began to make a great deal more than I thought wise of Captain +Sang. Not but what the captain seemed a worthy, fatherly man; but I hated +to behold her in the least familiarity with anyone except myself.</p> + +<p>Altogether, she was so quick to avoid me, and so constant to keep +herself surrounded with others, that I must watch a long while before I +could find my opportunity; and after it was found, I made not much of it, +as you are now to hear.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a>[pg +282]</span>"I have no guess how I have offended," said I; "it should scarce +be beyond pardon, then. O, try if you can pardon me."</p> + +<p>"I have no pardon to give," said she; and the words seemed to come out +of her throat like marbles. "I will be very much obliged for all your +friendships." And she made me an eight part of a curtsey.</p> + +<p>But I had schooled myself beforehand to say more, and I was going to say +it too.</p> + +<p>"There is one thing," said I. "If I have shocked your particularity by +the showing of that letter, it cannot touch Miss Grant. She wrote not to +you, but to a poor, common, ordinary lad, who might have had more sense +than show it. If you are to blame me--"</p> + +<p>"I will advise you to say no more about that girl, at all events!" said +Catriona. "It is her I will never look the road of, not if she lay dying." +She turned away from me, and suddenly back. "Will you swear you will have +no more to deal with her?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and I will never be so unjust then," said I; "nor yet so +ungrateful."</p> + +<p>And now it was I that turned away.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a>[pg +283]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXII'></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>HELVOETSLUYS</h3> + + +<p>The weather in the end considerably worsened; the wind sang in the +shrouds, the sea swelled higher, and the ship began to labour and cry out +among the billows. The song of the leadsman in the chains was now scarce +ceasing, for we thrid all the way among shoals. About nine in the morning, +in a burst of wintry sun between two squalls of hail, I had my first look +of Holland--a line of windmills birling in the breeze. It was besides my +first knowledge of these daft-like contrivances, which gave me a near sense +of foreign travel and a new world and life. We came to an anchor about +half-past eleven, outside the harbour of Helvoetsluys, in a place where the +sea sometimes broke and the ship pitched outrageously. You may be sure we +were all on deck save Mrs. Gebbie, some of us in cloaks, others mantled in +the ship's tarpaulins, all clinging on by ropes, and jesting the most like +old sailor-folk that we could imitate.</p> + +<p>Presently a boat, that was backed like a partan-crab, came gingerly +alongside, and the skipper of it hailed our master in the Dutch. Thence +Captain Sang <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a>[pg +284]</span>turned, very troubled like, to Catriona; and the rest of us +crowding about, the nature of the difficulty was made plain to all. The +<i>Rose</i> was bound to the port of Rotterdam, whither the other +passengers were in a great impatience to arrive, in view of a conveyance +due to leave that very evening in the direction of the Upper Germany. This, +with the present half-gale of wind, the captain (if no time were lost) +declared himself still capable to save. Now James More had trysted in +Helvoet with his daughter, and the captain had engaged to call before the +port and place her (according to the custom) in a shore boat. There was the +boat, to be sure, and there was Catriona ready: but both our master and the +patroon of the boat scrupled at the risk, and the first was in no humour to +delay.</p> + +<p>"Your father," said he, "would be gey an little pleased if we was to +break a leg to ye, Miss Drummond, let-a-be drowning of you. Take my way of +it," says he, "and come on-by with the rest of us here to Rotterdam. Ye can +get a passage down the Maes in a sailing scoot as far to the Brill, and +thence on again, by a place in a rattel-waggon, back to Helvoet."</p> + +<p>But Catriona would hear of no change. She looked white-like as she +beheld the bursting of the sprays, the green seas that sometimes poured +upon the forecastle, and the perpetual bounding and swooping of the boat +among the billows; but she stood firmly by her father's orders. "My father, +James More, will have arranged <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" +id="Page_285"></a>[pg 285]</span>it so," was her first word and her last. I +thought it very idle and indeed wanton in the girl to be so literal and +stand opposite to so much kind advice; but the fact is she had a very good +reason, if she would have told us. Sailing scoots and rattel-waggons are +excellent things; only the use of them must first be paid for, and all she +was possessed of in the world was just two shillings and a penny halfpenny +sterling. So it fell out that captain and passengers, not knowing of her +destitution--and she being too proud to tell them--spoke in vain.</p> + +<p>"But you ken nae French and nae Dutch neither," said one.</p> + +<p>"It is very true," says she, "but since the year '46 there are so many +of the honest Scots abroad that I will be doing very well, I thank +you."</p> + +<p>There was a pretty country simplicity in this that made some laugh, +others looked the more sorry, and Mr. Gebbie fall outright in a passion. I +believe he knew it was his duty (his wife having accepted charge of the +girl) to have gone ashore with her and seen her safe; nothing would have +induced him to have done so, since it must have involved the loss of his +conveyance; and I think he made it up to his conscience by the loudness of +his voice. At least he broke out upon Captain Sang, raging and saying the +thing was a disgrace; that it was mere death to try to leave the ship, and +at any event we could not cast down an innocent maid in a boatful of nasty +Holland fishers, and leave <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" +id="Page_286"></a>[pg 286]</span>her to her fate. I was thinking something +of the same; took the mate upon one side, arranged with him to send on my +chests by track-scoot to an address I had in Leyden, and stood up and +signalled to the fishers.</p> + +<p>"I will go ashore with the young lady, Captain Sang," said I. "It is all +one what way I go to Leyden;" and leaped at the same time into the boat, +which I managed not so elegantly but what I fell with two of the fishers in +the bilge.</p> + +<p>From the boat the business appeared yet more precarious than from the +ship, she stood so high over us, swung down so swift, and menaced us so +perpetually with her plunging and passaging upon the anchor cable. I began +to think I had made a fool's bargain, that it was merely impossible +Catriona should be got on board to me, and that I stood to be set ashore at +Helvoet all by myself and with no hope of any reward but the pleasure of +embracing James More, if I should want to. But this was to reckon without +the lass's courage. She had seen me leap with very little appearance +(however much reality) of hesitation; to be sure, she was not to be beat by +her discarded friend. Up she stood on the bulwarks and held by a stay, the +wind blowing in her petticoats, which made the enterprise more dangerous +and gave us rather more of a view of her stockings than would be thought +genteel in cities. There was no minute lost, and scarce time given for any +to interfere if they had wished the same. I stood up on the other <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a>[pg 287]</span>side +and spread my arms; the ship swung down on us, the patroon humoured his +boat nearer in than was perhaps wholly safe, and Catriona leaped into the +air. I was so happy as to catch her, and the fishers readily supporting us, +escaped a fall. She held to me a moment very tight, breathing quick and +deep; thence (she still clinging to me with both hands) we were passed aft +to our places by the steersman; and Captain Sang and all the crew and +passengers cheering and crying farewell, the boat was put about for +shore.</p> + + +<a name="balfour007"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour007.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: UP SHE STOOD ON THE BULWARKS AND HELD BY A +STAY" src="images/balfour007sm.jpg" height="554" width="387" /></a> +<br />UP SHE STOOD ON THE BULWARKS AND +HELD BY A STAY + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<p>As soon as Catriona came a little to herself she unhanded me suddenly +but said no word. No more did I; and indeed the whistling of the wind and +the breaching of the sprays made it no time for speech; and our crew not +only toiled excessively but made extremely little way, so that the +<i>Rose</i> had got her anchor and was off again before we had approached +the harbour mouth.</p> + +<p>We were no sooner in smooth water than the patroon, according to their +beastly Hollands custom, stopped his boat and required of us our fares. Two +guilders was the man's demand, between three and four shillings English +money, for each passenger. But at this Catriona began to cry out with a +vast deal of agitation. She had asked of Captain Sang, she said, and the +fare was but an English shilling. "Do you think I will have come on board +and not ask first?" cries she. The patroon scolded back upon her in a lingo +where the oaths <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" +id="Page_288"></a>[pg 288]</span>were English and the rest right Hollands; +till at last (seeing her near tears) I privately slipped in the rogue's +hand six shillings, whereupon he was obliging enough to receive from her +the other shilling without more complaint. No doubt I was a good deal +nettled and ashamed. I like to see folk thrifty but not with so much +passion; and I daresay it would be rather coldly that I asked her, as the +boat moved on again for shore, where it was that she was trysted with her +father.</p> + +<p>"He is to be inquired of at the house of one Sprott, an honest Scotch +merchant," says she; and then with the same breath, "I am wishing to thank +you very much--you are a brave friend to me."</p> + +<p>"It will be time enough when I get you to your father," said I, little +thinking that I spoke so true. "I can tell him a fine tale of a loyal +daughter."</p> + +<p>"O, I do not think I will be a loyal girl, at all events," she cried, +with a great deal of painfulness in the expression. "I do not think my +heart is true."</p> + +<p>"Yet there are very few that would have made that leap, and all to obey +a father's orders," I observed.</p> + +<p>"I cannot have you to be thinking of me so," she cried again. "When you +had done that same, how would I stop behind? And at all events that was not +all the reasons." Whereupon, with a burning face, she told me the plain +truth upon her poverty.</p> + +<p>"Good guide us!" cried I, "what kind of daft-like proceeding is this, to +let yourself be launched on the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" +id="Page_289"></a>[pg 289]</span>continent of Europe with an empty purse--I +count it hardly decent--scant decent!" I cried.</p> + +<p>"You forget James More, my father, is a poor gentleman," said she. "He +is a hunted exile."</p> + +<p>"But I think not all your friends are hunted exiles," I exclaimed. "And +was this fair to them that care for you? Was it fair to me? was it fair to +Miss Grant that counselled you to go, and would be driven fair horn-mad if +she could hear of it? Was it even fair to these Gregory folk that you were +living with, and used you lovingly? It's a blessing you have fallen in my +hands! Suppose your father hindered by an accident, what would become of +you here, and you your lee-alone in a strange place? The thought of the +thing frightens me," I said.</p> + +<p>"I will have lied to all of them," she replied. "I will have told them +all that I had plenty. I told <i>her</i> too. I could not be lowering James +More to them."</p> + +<p>I found out later on that she must have lowered him in the very dust, +for the lie was originally the father's not the daughter's, and she thus +obliged to persevere in it for the man's reputation. But at the time I was +ignorant of this, and the mere thought of her destitution and the perils in +which she must have fallen, had ruffled me almost beyond reason.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, well," said I, "you will have to learn more sense."</p> + +<p>I left her mails for the moment in an inn upon the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a>[pg 290]</span>shore, +where I got a direction for Sprott's house in my new French, and we walked +there--it was some little way--beholding the place with wonder as we went. +Indeed, there was much for Scots folk to admire; canals and trees being +intermingled with the houses; the houses, each within itself, of a brave +red brick, the colour of a rose, with steps and benches of blue marble at +the cheek of every door, and the whole town so clean you might have dined +upon the causeway. Sprott was within, upon his ledgers, in a low parlour, +very neat and clean, and set out with china and pictures and a globe of the +earth in a brass frame. He was a big-chafted, ruddy, lusty man, with a +crooked hard look to him; and he made us not that much civility as offer us +a seat.</p> + +<p>"Is James More Macgregor now in Helvoet, sir?" says I.</p> + +<p>"I ken nobody by such a name," says he, impatient-like.</p> + +<p>"Since you are so particular," says I, "I will amend my question, and +ask you where we are to find in Helvoet one James Drummond, <i>alias</i> +Macgregor, <i>alias</i> James More, late tenant in Iveronachile?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," says he, "he may be in Hell for what I ken, and for my part I +wish he was."</p> + +<p>"The young lady is that gentleman's daughter, sir," said I, "before +whom, I think you will agree with me, it is not very becoming to discuss +his character."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a>[pg +291]</span>"I have nothing to make either with him, or her, or you!" cries +he in his gross voice.</p> + +<p>"Under your favour, Mr. Sprott," said I, "this young lady is come from +Scotland seeking him, and by whatever mistake, was given the name of your +house for a direction. An error it seems to have been, but I think this +places both you and me--who am but her fellow-traveller by accident--under +a strong obligation to help our countrywoman."</p> + +<p>"Will you ding me daft?" he cries. "I tell ye I ken naething and care +less either for him or his breed. I tell ye the man owes me money."</p> + +<p>"That may very well be, sir," said I, who was now rather more angry than +himself. "At least I owe you nothing; the young lady is under my +protection; and I am neither at all used with these manners, nor in the +least content with them."</p> + +<p>As I said this, and without particularly thinking what I did, I drew a +step or two nearer to his table; thus striking, by mere good fortune, on +the only argument that could at all affect the man. The blood left his +lusty countenance.</p> + +<p>"For the Lord's sake dinna be hasty, sir!" he cried. "I am truly wishfu' +no to be offensive. But ye ken, sir, I'm like a wheen guid-natured, honest, +canty auld fallows--my bark is waur nor my bite. To hear me, ye micht +whiles fancy I was a wee thing dour; but na, na! its a kind auld fellow at +heart, Sandie Sprott! <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" +id="Page_292"></a>[pg 292]</span>And ye could never imagine the fyke and +fash this man has been to me."</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir," said I. "Then I will make that much freedom with your +kindness, as trouble you for your last news of Mr. Drummond."</p> + +<p>"You're welcome, sir!" said he. "As for the young leddy (my respec's to +her!) he'll just have clean forgotten her. I ken the man, ye see; I have +lost siller by him ere now. He thinks of naebody but just himsel'; clan, +king, or dauchter, if he can get his wameful, he would give them a' the +go-by! ay, or his correspondent either. For there is a sense in whilk I may +be nearly almost said to be his correspondent. The fact is, we are employed +thegether in a business affair, and I think it's like to turn out a dear +affair for Sandie Sprott. The man's as guid's my pairtner, and I give ye my +mere word I ken naething by where he is. He micht be coming here to +Helvoet; he micht come here the morn, he michtnae come for a twalmonth; I +would wonder at naething--or just at the ae thing, and that's if he was to +pay me my siller. Ye see what way I stand with it; and it's clear I'm no +very likely to meddle up with the young leddy, as ye ca' her. She cannae +stop here, that's ae thing certain sure. Dod, sir, I'm a lone man! If I was +to tak her in, its highly possible the hellicat would try and gar me marry +her when he turned up."</p> + +<p>"Enough of this talk," said I. "I will take the <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a>[pg 293]</span>young lady among better +friends. Give me pen, ink, and paper, and I will leave here for James More +the address of my correspondent in Leyden. He can inquire from me where he +is to seek his daughter."</p> + +<p>This word I wrote and sealed; which while I was doing, Sprott of his own +motion made a welcome offer, to charge himself with Miss Drummond's mails, +and even send a porter for them to the inn. I advanced him to that effect a +dollar or two to be a cover, and he gave me an acknowledgment in writing of +the sum.</p> + +<p>Whereupon (I giving my arm to Catriona) we left the house of this +unpalatable rascal. She had said no word throughout, leaving me to judge +and speak in her place; I, upon my side, had been careful not to embarrass +her by a glance; and even now although my heart still glowed inside of me +with shame and anger, I made it my affair to seem quite easy.</p> + +<p>"Now," said I, "let us get back to yon same inn where they can speak the +French, have a piece of dinner, and inquire for conveyances to Rotterdam. I +will never be easy till I have you safe again in the hands of Mrs. +Gebbie."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it will have to be," said Catriona, "though whoever will be +pleased, I do not think it will be her. And I will remind you this once +again that I have but one shilling, and three baubees."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a>[pg +294]</span>"And just this once again," said I, "I will remind you it was a +blessing that I came alongst with you."</p> + +<p>"What else would I be thinking all this time!" says she, and I thought +weighed a little on my arm. "It is you that are the good friend to me."</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a>[pg +295]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXIII'></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>TRAVELS IN HOLLAND</h3> + + +<p>The rattel-wagon, which is a kind of a long wagon set with benches, +carried us in four hours of travel to the great city of Rotterdam. It was +long past dark by then, but the streets pretty brightly lighted and +thronged with the wild-like, outlandish characters--bearded Hebrews, black +men, and the hordes of courtesans, most indecently adorned with finery and +stopping seamen by their very sleeves; the clash of talk about us made our +heads to whirl; and what was the most unexpected of all, we appeared to be +no more struck with all these foreigners than they with us. I made the best +face I could, for the lass's sake and my own credit; but the truth is I +felt like a lost sheep, and my heart beat in my bosom with anxiety. Once or +twice I inquired after the harbor or the berth of the ship <i>Rose</i>; but +either fell on some who spoke only Hollands, or my own French failed me. +Trying a street at a venture, I came upon a lane of lighted houses, the +doors and windows thronged with wauf-like painted women; these jostled and +mocked upon us as <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" +id="Page_296"></a>[pg 296]</span>we passed, and I was thankful we had +nothing of their language. A little after we issued forth upon an open +place along the harbour.</p> + +<p>"We shall be doing now," cries I, as soon as I spied masts. "Let us walk +here by the harbour. We are sure to meet some that has the English, and at +the best of it we may light upon that very ship."</p> + +<p>We did the next best, as happened; for about nine of the evening, whom +should we walk into the arms of but Captain Sang? He told us they had made +their run in the most incredible brief time, the wind holding strong until +they reached port; by which means his passengers were all gone already on +their further travels. It was impossible to chase after the Gebbies into +High Germany, and we had no other acquaintance to fall back upon but +Captain Sang himself. It was the more gratifying to find the man friendly +and wishful to assist. He made it a small affair to find some good plain +family of merchants, where Catriona might harbour till the <i>Rose</i> was +loaden; declared he would then blithely carry her back to Leith for nothing +and see her safe in the hands of Mr. Gregory; and in the meanwhile carried +us to a late ordinary for the meal we stood in need of. He seemed extremely +friendly, as I say, but what surprised me a good deal, rather boisterous in +the bargain; and the cause of this was soon to appear. For at the ordinary, +calling for Rhenish wine and drinking of it deep, he soon became +unutterably tipsy. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" +id="Page_297"></a>[pg 297]</span>In, this case, as too common with all men, +but especially with those of his rough trade, what little sense or manners +he possessed deserted him; and he behaved himself so scandalous to the +young lady, jesting most ill-favoredly at the figure she had made on the +ship's rail, that I had no resource but carry her suddenly away.</p> + +<p>She came out of that ordinary clinging to me close. "Take me away, +David," she said. "<i>You</i> keep me. I am not afraid with you."</p> + +<p>"And have no cause, my little friend!" cried I, and could have found it +in my heart to weep.</p> + +<p>"Where will you be taking me?" she said again. "Don't leave me at all +events, never leave me."</p> + +<p>"Where am I taking you indeed?" says I stopping, for I had been staving +on ahead in mere blindness. "I must stop and think. But I'll not leave you, +Catriona; the Lord do so to me, and more also, if I should fail or fash +you."</p> + +<p>She crept closer in to me by way of a reply.</p> + +<p>"Here," I said, "is the stillest place that we have hit on yet in this +busy byke of a city. Let us sit down here under yon tree and consider of +our course."</p> + +<p>That tree (which I am little like to forget) stood hard by the harbour +side. It was a black night, but lights were in the houses, and nearer hand +in the quiet ships; there was a shining of the city on the one hand, and a +buzz hung over it of many thousands <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a>[pg 298]</span>walking and talking; on +the other, it was dark and the water bubbled on the sides. I spread my +cloak upon a builder's stone, and made her sit there; she would have kept +her hold upon me, for she still shook with the late affronts; but I wanted +to think clear, disengaged myself, and paced to and fro before her, in the +manner of what we call a smuggler's walk, belabouring my brains for any +remedy. By the course of these scattering thoughts I was brought suddenly +face to face with a remembrance that, in the heat and haste of our +departure, I had left Captain Sang to pay the ordinary. At this I began to +laugh out loud, for I thought the man well served; and at the same time, by +an instinctive movement, carried my hand to the pocket where my money was. +I suppose it was in the lane where the women jostled us; but there is only +the one thing certain, that my purse was gone.</p> + +<p>"You will have thought of something good," said she, observing me to +pause.</p> + +<p>At the pinch we were in, my mind became suddenly clear as a perspective +glass, and I saw there was no choice of methods. I had not one doit of +coin, but in my pocket-book I had still my letter on the Leyden merchant; +and there was now but the one way to get to Leyden, and that was to walk on +our two feet.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said I, "I know you're brave and I believe you're strong, do +you think you could walk thirty miles on a plain road?" We found it, I +believe, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a>[pg +299]</span>scarce the two-thirds of that, but such was my notion of the +distance.</p> + +<p>"David," she said, "if you will just keep near, I will go anywhere and +do anything. The courage of my heart, it is all broken. Do not be leaving +me in this horrible country by myself, and I will do all else."</p> + +<p>"Can you start now and march all night?" said I.</p> + +<p>"I will do all that you can ask of me," she said, "and never ask you +why. I have been a bad ungrateful girl to you; and do what you please with +me now! And I think Miss Barbara Grant is the best lady in the world," she +added, "and I do not see what she would deny you for at all events."</p> + +<p>This was Greek and Hebrew to me; but I had other matters to consider, +and the first of these was to get clear of that city on the Leyden road. It +proved a cruel problem; and it may have been one or two at night ere we had +solved it. Once beyond the houses, there was neither moon or stars to guide +us; only the whiteness of the way in the midst and a blackness of an alley +on both hands. The walking was besides made most extraordinary difficult by +a plain black frost that fell suddenly in the small hours and turned that +highway into one long slide.</p> + +<p>"Well, Catriona," said I, "here we are like the king's sons and the old +wives' daughters in your daft-like Highland tales. Soon we'll be going over +the '<i>seven Bens, the seven glens, and the seven mountain <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a>[pg +300]</span>moors</i>.'" Which was a common byword or overcome in these +tales of hers that had stuck in my memory.</p> + +<p>"Ah," says she, "but here are no glens or mountains! Though I will never +be denying but what the trees and some of the plain places hereabouts are +very pretty. But our country is the best yet."</p> + +<p>"I wish we could say as much for our own folk," says I, recalling Sprott +and Sang, and perhaps James More himself.</p> + +<p>"I will never complain of the country of my friend," said she, and spoke +it out with an accent so particular that I seemed to see the look upon her +face.</p> + +<p>I caught in my breath sharp and came near falling (for my pains) on the +black ice.</p> + +<p>"I do not know what <i>you</i> think, Catriona," said I, when I was a +little recovered, "but this has been the best day yet! I think shame to say +it, when you have met in with such misfortunes and disfavours; but for me, +it has been the best day yet."</p> + +<p>"It was a good day when you showed me so much love," said she.</p> + +<p>"And yet I think shame to be happy too," I went on, "and you here on the +road in the black night."</p> + +<p>"Where in the great world would I be else?" she cried. "I am thinking I +am safest where I am with you."</p> + +<p>"I am quite forgiven, then?" I asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a>[pg +301]</span>"Will you not forgive me that time so much as not to take it in +your mouth again?" she cried. "There's is nothing in this heart to you but +thanks. But I will be honest too," she added, with a kind of suddenness, +"and I'll never can forgive that girl."</p> + +<p>"Is this Miss Grant again?" said I. "You said yourself she was the best +lady in the world."</p> + +<p>"So she will be, indeed!" says Catriona. "But I will never forgive her +for all that. I will never, never forgive her, and let me hear tell of her +no more."</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "this beats all that ever came to my knowledge; and I +wonder that you can indulge yourself in such bairnly whims. Here is a young +lady that was the best friend in the world to the both of us, that learned +us how to dress ourselves, and in a great manner how to behave, as anyone +can see that knew us both before and after."</p> + +<p>But Catriona stopped square in the midst of the highway.</p> + +<p>"It is this way of it," said she. "Either you will go on to speak of +her, and I will go back to yon town, and let come of it what God pleases! +Or else you will do me that politeness to talk of other things."</p> + +<p>I was the most nonplussed person in this world; but I bethought me that +she depended altogether on my help, that she was of the frail sex and not +so much beyond a child, and it was for me to be wise for the pair of +us.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a>[pg +302]</span>"My dear girl," said I, "I can make neither head nor tails of +this; but God forbid that I should do anything to set you on the jee. As +for talking of Miss Grant I have no such a mind to it, and I believe it was +yourself began it. My only design (if I took you up at all) was for your +own improvement, for I hate the very look of injustice. Not that I do not +wish you to have a good pride and a nice female delicacy; they become you +well; but here you show them to excess."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, have you done?" said she.</p> + +<p>"I have done," said I.</p> + +<p>"A very good thing," said she, and we went on again, but now in +silence.</p> + +<p>It was an eerie employment to walk in the gross night, beholding only +shadows and hearing nought but our own steps. At first, I believe our +hearts burned against each other with a deal of enmity; but the darkness +and the cold, and the silence, which only the cocks sometimes interrupted, +or sometimes the farmyard dogs, had pretty soon brought down our pride to +the dust; and for my own particular, I would have jumped at any decent +opening for speech.</p> + +<p>Before the day peeped, came on a warmish rain, and the frost was all +wiped away from among our feet. I took my cloak to her and sought to hap +her in the same; she bade me, rather impatiently, to keep it.</p> + +<p>"Indeed and I will do no such thing," said I. "Here am I, a great, ugly +lad that has seen all kinds of weather, <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a>[pg 303]</span>and here are you a tender, +pretty maid! My dear, you would not put me to a shame?"</p> + +<p>Without more words she let me cover her; which as I was doing in the +darkness, I let my hand rest a moment on her shoulder, almost like an +embrace.</p> + +<p>"You must try to be more patient of your friend," said I.</p> + +<p>I thought she seemed to lean the least thing in the world against my +bosom, or perhaps it was but fancy.</p> + +<p>"There will be no end to your goodness," said she.</p> + +<p>And we went on again in silence; but now all was changed; and the +happiness that was in my heart was like a fire in a great chimney.</p> + +<p>The rain passed ere day; it was but a sloppy morning as we came into the +town of Delft. The red gabled houses made a handsome show on either hand of +a canal; the servant lassies were out slestering and scrubbing at the very +stones upon the public highway; smoke rose from a hundred kitchens; and it +came in upon me strongly it was time to break our fasts.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said I, "I believe you have yet a shilling and three +baubees?"</p> + +<p>"Are you wanting it?" said she, and passed me her purse. "I am wishing +it was five pounds! What will you want it for?"</p> + +<p>"And what have we been walking for all night, like a pair of waif +Egyptians?" says I. "Just because I was robbed of my purse and all I +possessed in that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" +id="Page_304"></a>[pg 304]</span>unchancy town of Rotterdam. I will tell +you of it now, because I think the worst is over, but we have still a good +tramp before us till we get to where my money is, and if you would not buy +me a piece of bread, I were like to go fasting."</p> + +<p>She looked at me with open eyes. By the light of the new day she was all +black and pale for weariness, so that my heart smote me for her. But as for +her, she broke out laughing.</p> + +<p>"My torture! are we beggars then?" she cried. "You too? O, I could have +wished for this same thing! And I am glad to buy your breakfast to you. But +it would be pleisand if I would have had to dance to get a meal to you! For +I believe they are not very well acquainted with our manner of dancing over +here, and might be paying for the curiosity of that sight."</p> + +<p>I could have kissed her for that word, not with a lover's mind, but in a +heat of admiration. For it always warms a man to see a woman brave.</p> + +<p>We got a drink of milk from a country wife but new come to the town, and +in a baker's, a piece of excellent, hot, sweet-smelling bread, which we ate +upon the road as we went on. That road from Delft to the Hague is just five +miles of a fine avenue shaded with trees, a canal on the one hand, on the +other excellent pastures of cattle. It was pleasant here indeed.</p> + +<p>"And now, Davie," said she, "what will you do with me at all +events?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a>[pg +305]</span>"It is what we have to speak of," said I, "and the sooner yet +the better. I can come by money in Leyden; that will be all well. But the +trouble is how to dispose of you until your father come. I thought last +night you seemed a little sweir to part from me?"</p> + +<p>"It will be more than seeming then," said she.</p> + +<p>"You are a very young maid," said I, "and I am but a very young callant. +This is a great piece of difficulty. What way are we to manage? Unless, +indeed, you could pass to be my sister?"</p> + +<p>"And what for no?" said she, "if you would let me!"</p> + +<p>"I wish you were so, indeed!" I cried. "I would be a fine man if I had +such a sister. But the rub is that you are Catriona Drummond."</p> + +<p>"And now I will be Catrine Balfour," she said. "And who is to ken? They +are all strange folk here."</p> + +<p>"If you think that it would do," says I. "I own it troubles me. I would +like it very ill, if I advised you at all wrong."</p> + +<p>"David, I have no friend here but you," she said.</p> + +<p>"The mere truth is, I am too young to be your friend," said I. "I am too +young to advise you, or you to be advised. I see not what else we are to +do, and yet I ought to warn you."</p> + +<p>"I will have no choice left," said she. "My father James More has not +used me very well, and it is not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" +id="Page_306"></a>[pg 306]</span>the first time. I am cast upon your hands +like a sack of barley meal, and have nothing else to think of but your +pleasure. If you will have me, good and well. If you will not"--she turned +and touched her hand upon my arm--"David, I am afraid," said she.</p> + +<p>"No, but I ought to warn you," I began; and then bethought me that I was +the bearer of the purse, and it would never do to seem too churlish. +"Catriona," said I, "don't misunderstand me: I am just trying to do my duty +by you, girl! Here am I going alone to this strange city, to be a solitary +student there; and here is this chance arisen that you might dwell with me +a bit, and be like my sister: you can surely understand this much, my dear, +that I would just love to have you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, and here I am," said she. "So that's soon settled."</p> + +<p>I know I was in duty bounden to have spoke more plain. I know this was a +great blot on my character for which I was lucky that I did not pay more +dear. But I minded how easy her delicacy had been startled with a word of +kissing her in Barbara's letter; now that she depended on me, how was I to +be more bold? Besides, the truth is, I could see no other feasible method +to dispose of her. And I daresay inclination pulled me very strong.</p> + +<p>A little beyond the Hague she fell very lame and made the rest of the +distance heavily enough. Twice <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" +id="Page_307"></a>[pg 307]</span>she must rest by the wayside, which she +did with pretty apologies, calling herself a shame to the Highlands and the +race she came of, and nothing but a hindrance to myself. It was her excuse, +she said, that she was not much used with walking shod. I would have had +her strip off her shoes and stockings and go barefoot. But she pointed out +to me that the women of that country, even in the landward roads, appeared +to be all shod.</p> + +<p>"I must not be disgracing my brother," said she, and was very merry with +it all, although her face told tales of her.</p> + +<p>There is a garden in that city we were bound to, sanded below with clean +sand, the trees meeting overhead, some of them trimmed, some pleached, and +the whole place beautified with alleys and arbours. Here I left Catriona, +and went forward by myself to find my correspondent. There I drew on my +credit, and asked to be recommended to some decent, retired lodging. My +baggage not being yet arrived, I told him I supposed I should require his +caution with the people of the house; and explained that, my sister being +come for a while to keep house with me, I should be wanting two chambers. +This was all very well; but the trouble was that Mr. Balfour in his letter +of recommendation had condescended on a great deal of particulars, and +never a word of any sister in the case. I could see my Dutchman was +extremely suspicious; and viewing me over the rims of a great pair of +spectacles--he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" +id="Page_308"></a>[pg 308]</span>was a poor, frail body, and reminded me of +an infirm rabbit--he began to question me close.</p> + +<p>Here I fell in a panic. Suppose he accept my tale (thinks I), suppose he +invite my sister to his house, and that I bring her. I shall have a fine +ravelled pirn to unwind, and may end by disgracing both the lassie and +myself. Thereupon I began hastily to expound to him my sister's character. +She was of a bashful disposition, it appeared, and so extremely fearful of +meeting strangers that I had left her at that moment sitting in a public +place alone. And then, being launched upon the stream of falsehood, I must +do like all the rest of the world in the same circumstance, and plunge in +deeper than was any service; adding some altogether needless particulars of +Miss Balfour's ill-health and retirement during childhood. In the midst of +which I awoke to a sense of my behaviour, and was turned to one blush.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman was not so much deceived but what he discovered a +willingness to be quit of me. But he was first of all a man of business; +and knowing that my money was good enough, however it might be with my +conduct, he was so far obliging as to send his son to be my guide and +caution in the matter of a lodging. This implied my presenting of the young +man to Catriona. The poor, pretty child was much recovered with resting, +looked and behaved to perfection, and took my arm and gave me the name of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a>[pg +309]</span>brother more easily than I could answer her. But there was one +misfortune: thinking to help, she was rather towardly than otherwise to my +Dutchman. And I could not but reflect that Miss Balfour had rather suddenly +outgrown her bashfulness. And there was another thing, the difference of +our speech. I had the Low Country tongue and dwelled upon my words; she had +a hill voice, spoke with something of an English accent, only far more +delightful, and was scarce quite fit to be called a deacon in the craft of +talking English grammar; so that, for a brother and sister, we made a most +uneven pair. But the young Hollander was a heavy dog, without so much +spirit in his belly as to remark her prettiness, for which I scorned him. +And as soon as he had found a cover to our heads, he left us alone, which +was the greater service of the two.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a>[pg +310]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXIV'></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>FULL STORY OF A COPY OF HEINECCIUS</h3> + + +<p>The place found was in the upper part of a house backed on a canal. We +had two rooms, the second entering from the first; each had a chimney built +out into the floor in the Dutch manner; and being alongside, each had the +same prospect from the window of the top of a tree below us in a little +court, of a piece of the canal, and of houses in the Hollands architecture +and a church spire upon the further side. A full set of bells hung in that +spire and made delightful music; and when there was any sun at all, it +shone direct in our two chambers. From a tavern hard by we had good meals +sent in.</p> + +<p>The first night we were both pretty weary, and she extremely so. There +was little talk between us, and I packed her off to her bed as soon as she +had eaten. The first thing in the morning I wrote word to Sprott to have +her mails sent on, together with a line to Alan at his chief's; and had the +same dispatched, and her breakfast ready, ere I waked her. I was a little +abashed when she came forth in her one habit, and the mud of the way upon +her stockings. By what inquiries I had made, it <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a>[pg 311]</span>seemed a good few days +must pass before her mails could come to hand in Leyden, and it was plainly +needful she must have a shift of things. She was unwilling at first that I +should go to that expense; but I reminded her she was now a rich man's +sister and must appear suitably in the part, and we had not got to the +second merchant's before she was entirely charmed into the spirit of the +thing, and her eyes shining. It pleased me to see her so innocent and +thorough in this pleasure. What was more extraordinary was the passion into +which I fell on it myself; being never satisfied that I had bought her +enough or fine enough, and never weary of beholding her in different +attires. Indeed, I began to understand some little of Miss Grant's +immersion in that interest of clothes; for the truth is, when you have the +ground of a beautiful person to adorn, the whole business becomes +beautiful. The Dutch chintzes I should say were extraordinary cheap and +fine; but I would be ashamed to set down what I paid for stockings to her. +Altogether I spent so great a sum upon this pleasuring (as I may call it) +that I was ashamed for a great while to spend more; and by way of a set +off, I left our chambers pretty bare. If we had beds, if Catriona was a +little braw, and I had light to see her by, we were richly enough lodged +for me.</p> + +<p>By the end of this merchandising I was glad to leave her at the door +with all our purchases, and go for a long walk alone in which to read +myself a lecture. Here had <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" +id="Page_312"></a>[pg 312]</span>I taken under my roof, and as good as to +my bosom, a young lass extremely beautiful, and whose innocence was her +peril. My talk with the old Dutchman, and the lies to which I was +constrained, had already given me a sense of how my conduct must appear to +others; and now, after the strong admiration I had just experienced and the +immoderacy with which I had continued my vain purchases, I began to think +of it myself as very hasarded. I bethought me, if I had a sister indeed, +whether I would so expose her; then, judging the case too problematical, I +varied my question into this, whether I would so trust Catriona in the +hands of any other Christian being: the answer to which made my face to +burn. The more cause, since I had been entrapped and had entrapped the girl +into an undue situation, that I should behave in it with scrupulous nicety. +She depended on me wholly for her bread and shelter; in case I should alarm +her delicacy, she had no retreat. Besides, I was her host and her +protector; and the more irregularly I had fallen in these positions, the +less excuse for me if I should profit by the same to forward even the most +honest suit; for with the opportunities that I enjoyed, and which no wise +parent would have suffered for a moment, even the most honest suit would be +unfair. I saw I must be extremely hold-off in my relations; and yet not too +much so neither; for if I had no right to appear at all in the character of +a suitor, I must yet appear continually, and if possible agreeably, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a>[pg 313]</span>in that +of host. It was plain I should require a great deal of tact and conduct, +perhaps more than my years afforded. But I had rushed in where angels might +have feared to tread, and there was no way out of that position, save by +behaving right while I was in it. I made a set of rules for my guidance; +prayed for strength to be enabled to observe them, and as a more human aid +to the same end purchased a study book in law. This being all that I could +think of, I relaxed from these grave considerations; whereupon my mind +bubbled at once into an effervescency of pleasing spirits, and it was like +one treading on air that I turned homeward. As I thought that name of home, +and recalled the image of that figure awaiting me between four walls, my +heart beat upon my bosom.</p> + +<p>My troubles began with my return. She ran to greet me with an obvious +and affecting pleasure. She was clad, besides, entirely in the new clothes +that I had bought for her; looked in them beyond expression well; and must +walk about and drop me curtseys to display them and to be admired. I am +sure I did it with an ill grace, for I thought to have choked upon the +words.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "if you will not be caring for my pretty clothes, see +what I have done with our two chambers." And she showed me the place all +very finely swept and the fires glowing in the two chimneys.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a>[pg +314]</span>I was glad of a chance to seem a little more severe than I quite +felt. "Catriona," said I, "I am very much displeased with you, and you must +never again lay a hand upon my room. One of us two must have the rule while +we are here together; it is most fit it should be I who am both the man and +the elder; and I give you that for my command."</p> + +<p>She dropped me one of her curtseys which were extraordinary taking. "If +you will be cross," said she, "I must be making pretty manners at you, +Davie. I will be very obedient, as I should be when every stitch upon all +there is of me belongs to you. But you will not be very cross either, +because now I have not anyone else."</p> + +<p>This struck me hard, and I made haste, in a kind of penitence, to blot +out all the good effect of my last speech. In this direction, progress was +more easy, being down hill; she led me forward, smiling; at the sight of +her, in the brightness of the fire and with her pretty becks and looks, my +heart was altogether melted. We made our meal with infinite mirth and +tenderness; and the two seemed to be commingled into one, so that our very +laughter sounded like a kindness.</p> + +<p>In the midst of which I awoke to better recollections, made a lame word +of excuse, and set myself boorishly to my studies. It was a substantial, +instructive book that I had bought, by the late Dr. Heineccius, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a>[pg 315]</span>in +which I was to do a great deal of reading these next days, and often very +glad that I had no one to question me of what I read. Methought she bit her +lip at me a little, and that cut me. Indeed it left her wholly solitary, +the more as she was very little of a reader, and had never a book. But what +was I to do?</p> + +<p>So the rest of the evening flowed by almost without speech.</p> + +<p>I could have beat myself. I could not lie in my bed that night for rage +and repentance, but walked to and fro on my bare feet till I was nearly +perished, for the chimney was gone out and the frost keen. The thought of +her in the next room, the thought that she might even hear me as I walked, +the remembrance of my churlishness and that I must continue to practise the +same ungrateful course or be dishonoured, put me beside my reason. I stood +like a man between Scylla and Charybdis: <i>What must she think of me</i>? +was my one thought that softened me continually into weakness. <i>What is +to become of us</i>? the other which steeled me again to resolution. This +was my first night of wakefulness and divided counsels, of which I was now +to pass many, pacing like a madman, sometimes weeping like a childish boy, +sometimes praying (I would fain hope) like a Christian.</p> + +<p>But prayer is not very difficult, and the hitch comes in practice. In +her presence, and above all if I allowed <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a>[pg 316]</span>any beginning of +familiarity, I found I had very little command of what should follow. But +to sit all day in the same room with her, and feign to be engaged upon +Heineccius, surpassed my strength. So that I fell instead upon the +expedient of absenting myself so much as I was able; taking out classes and +sitting there regularly, often with small attention, the test of which I +found the other day in a note-book of that period, where I had left off to +follow an edifying lecture and actually scribbled in my book some very ill +verses, though the Latinity is rather better than I thought I could ever +have compassed. The evil of this course was unhappily near as great as its +advantage. I had the less time of trial, but I believe, while that time +lasted, I was tried the more extremely. For she being so much left to +solitude, she came to greet my return with an increasing fervour that came +nigh to overmaster me. These friendly offers I must barbarously cast back; +and my rejection sometimes wounded her so cruelly that I must unbend and +seek to make it up to her in kindness. So that our time passed in ups and +downs, tiffs and disappointments, upon the which I could almost say (if it +may be said with reverence) that I was crucified.</p> + +<p>The base of my trouble was Catriona's extraordinary innocence, at which +I was not so much surprised as filled with pity and admiration. She seemed +to have no thought of our position, no sense of my struggles; <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a>[pg +317]</span>welcomed any mark of my weakness with responsive joy; and when I +was drove again to my retrenchments, did not always dissemble her chagrin. +There were times when I have thought to myself, 'If she were over head in +love, and set her cap to catch me, she would scarce behave much otherwise;' +and then I would fall again into wonder at the simplicity of woman, from +whom I felt (in these moments) that I was not worthy to be descended.</p> + +<p>There was one point in particular on which our warfare turned, and of +all things, this was the question of her clothes. My baggage had soon +followed me from Rotterdam, and hers from Helvoet. She had now, as it were, +two wardrobes; and it grew to be understood between us (I could never tell +how) that when she was friendly she would wear my clothes, and when +otherwise her own. It was meant for a buffet, and (as it were) the +renunciation of her gratitude; and I felt it so in my bosom, but was +generally more wise than to appear to have observed the circumstance.</p> + +<p>Once, indeed, I was betrayed into a childishness greater than her own; +it fell in this way. On my return from classes, thinking upon her devoutly +with a great deal of love and a good deal of annoyance in the bargain, the +annoyance began to fade away out of my mind; and spying in a window one of +those forced flowers, of which the Hollanders are so skilled in the +artifice, I gave way to an impulse and bought it for <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a>[pg +318]</span>Catriona. I do not know the name of that flower, but it was of +the pink colour, and I thought she would admire the same, and carried it +home to her with a wonderful soft heart. I had left her in my clothes, and +when I returned to find her all changed and a face to match, I cast but the +one look at her from head to foot, ground my teeth together, flung the +window open, and my flower into the court, and then (between rage and +prudence) myself out of that room again, of which I slammed the door as I +went out.</p> + +<p>On the steep stair I came near falling, and this brought me to myself, +so that I began at once to see the folly of my conduct. I went, not into +the street as I had purposed, but to the house court, which was always a +solitary place, and where I saw my flower (that had cost me vastly more +than it was worth) hanging in the leafless tree. I stood by the side of the +canal, and looked upon the ice. Country people went by on their skates, and +I envied them. I could see no way out of the pickle I was in: no way so +much as to return to the room I had just left. No doubt was in my mind but +I had now betrayed the secret of my feelings; and to make things worse, I +had shown at the same time (and that with wretched boyishness) incivility +to my helpless guest.</p> + +<p>I suppose she must have seen me from the open window. It did not seem to +me that I had stood there very long before I heard the crunching of +footsteps on <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a>[pg +319]</span>the frozen snow, and turning somewhat angrily (for I was in no +spirit to be interrupted) saw Catriona drawing near. She was all changed +again, to the clocked stockings.</p> + +<p>"Are we not to have our walk to-day?" said she.</p> + +<p>I was looking at her in a maze. "Where is your brooch?" says I.</p> + +<p>She carried her hand to her bosom and coloured high. "I will have +forgotten it," said she. "I will run upstairs for it quick, and then surely +we'll can have our walk?"</p> + +<p>There was a note of pleading in that last that staggered me; I had +neither words nor voice to utter them; I could do no more than nod by way +of answer; and the moment she had left me, climbed into the tree and +recovered my flower, which on her return I offered her.</p> + +<p>"I bought it for you, Catriona," said I.</p> + +<p>She fixed it in the midst of her bosom with the brooch, I could have +thought tenderly.</p> + +<p>"It is none the better of my handling," said I again, and blushed.</p> + +<p>"I will be liking it none the worse, you may be sure of that," said +she.</p> + +<p>We did not speak so much that day, she seemed a thought on the reserve +though not unkindly. As for me, all the time of our walking, and after we +came home, and I had seen her put my flower into a pot of water, I was +thinking to myself what puzzles women <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a>[pg 320]</span>were. I was thinking, the +one moment, it was the most stupid thing on earth she should not have +perceived my love; and the next, that she had certainly perceived it long +ago, and (being a wise girl with the fine female instinct of propriety) +concealed her knowledge.</p> + +<p>We had our walk daily. Out in the streets I felt more safe; I relaxed a +little in my guardedness; and for one thing, there was no Heineccius. This +made these periods not only a relief to myself, but a particular pleasure +to my poor child. When I came back about the hour appointed, I would +generally find her ready dressed and glowing with anticipation. She would +prolong their duration to the extreme, seeming to dread (as I did myself) +the hour of the return; and there is scarce a field or waterside near +Leyden, scarce a street or lane there, where we have not lingered. Outside +of these, I bade her confine herself entirely to our lodgings; this in the +fear of her encountering any acquaintance, which would have rendered our +position very difficult. From the same apprehension I would never suffer +her to attend church, nor even go myself; but made some kind of shift to +hold worship privately in our own chamber--I hope with an honest, but I am +quite sure with a very much divided mind. Indeed, there was scarce anything +that more affected me, than thus to kneel down alone with her before God +like man and wife.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321"></a>[pg +321]</span>One day it was snowing downright hard. I had thought it not +possible that we should venture forth, and was surprised to find her +waiting for me ready dressed.</p> + +<p>"I will not be doing without my walk," she cried. "You are never a good +boy, Davie, in the house; I will never be caring for you only in the open +air. I think we two will better turn Egyptian and dwell by the +roadside."</p> + +<p>That was the best walk yet of all of them; she clung near to me in the +falling snow; it beat about and melted on us, and the drops stood upon her +bright cheeks like tears and ran into her smiling mouth. Strength seemed to +come upon me with the sight like a giant's; I thought I could have caught +her up and run with her into the uttermost places in the earth; and we +spoke together all that time beyond belief for freedom and sweetness.</p> + +<p>It was the dark night when we came to the house door. She pressed my arm +upon her bosom. "Thank you kindly for these same good hours," said she, on +a deep note of her voice.</p> + +<p>The concern in which I fell instantly on this address, put me with the +same swiftness on my guard; and we were no sooner in the chamber, and the +light made, than she beheld the old, dour, stubborn countenance of the +student of Heineccius. Doubtless she was more than usually hurt; and I know +for myself, I found it more <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" +id="Page_322"></a>[pg 322]</span>than usually difficult to maintain my +strangeness. Even at the meal, I durst scarce unbuckle and scarce lift my +eyes to her; and it was no sooner over than I fell again to my civilian, +with more seeming abstraction and less understanding than before. +Methought, as I-read, I could hear my heart strike like an eight-day clock. +Hard as I feigned to study, there was still some of my eyesight that +spilled beyond the book upon Catriona. She sat on the floor by the side of +my great mail, and the chimney lighted her up, and shone and blinked upon +her, and made her glow and darken through a wonder of fine hues. Now she +would be gazing in the fire, and then again at me; and at that I would be +plunged in a terror of myself, and turn the pages of Heineccius like a man +looking for the text in church.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she called out aloud, "O, why does not my father come?" she +cried, and fell at once into a storm of tears.</p> + +<p>I leaped up, flung Heineccius fairly into the fire, ran to her side, and +cast an arm around her sobbing body.</p> + +<p>She put me from her sharply. "You do not love your friend," says she. "I +could be so happy too, if you would let me!" And then, "O, what will I have +done that you should hate me so?"</p> + +<p>"Hate you!" cries I, and held her firm. "You blind lass, can you not see +a little in my wretched heart? Do you think when I set there, reading in +that fool-book that I have just burned and be damned to it, I take <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323"></a>[pg 323]</span>ever +the least thought of any stricken thing but just yourself? Night after +night I could have grat to see you sitting there your lone. And what was I +to do? You are here under my honour; would you punish me for that? Is it +for that that you would spurn a loving servant?"</p> + +<p>At the word, with a small, sudden motion, she clung near to me. I raised +her face to mine, I kissed it, and she bowed her brow upon my bosom, +clasping me tight. I sat in a mere whirl like a man drunken. Then I heard +her voice sound very small and muffled in my clothes.</p> + +<p>"Did you kiss her truly?" she asked.</p> + +<p>There went through me so great a heave of surprise that I was all shook +with it.</p> + +<p>"Miss Grant!" I cried, all in a disorder. "Yes, I asked her to kiss me +good-bye, the which she did."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well!" said she, "you have kissed me too, at all events."</p> + +<p>At the strangeness and sweetness of that word, I saw where we had +fallen; rose, and set her on her feet.</p> + +<p>"This will never do," said I. "This will never, never do. O Catrine, +Catrine!" Then there came a pause in which I was debarred from any +speaking. And then, "Go away to your bed," said I. "Go away to your bed and +leave me."</p> + +<p>She turned to obey me like a little child, and the next I knew of it, +had stopped in the very doorway.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"></a>[pg +324]</span>"Good night, Davie!" said she.</p> + +<p>"And O, good night, my love!" I cried, with a great outbreak of my soul, +and caught her to me again, so that it seemed I must have broken her. The +next moment I had thrust her from the room, shut to the door even with +violence, and stood alone.</p> + +<p>The milk was spilt now, the word was out and the truth told. I had crept +like an untrusty man into the poor maid's affections; she was in my hand +like any frail, innocent thing to make or mar; and what weapon of defence +was left me? It seemed like a symbol that Heinoccius, my old protection, +was now burned. I repented, yet could not find it in my heart to blame +myself for that great failure. It seemed not possible to have resisted the +boldness of her innocence or that last temptation of her weeping. And all +that I had to excuse me did but make my sin appear the greater--it was upon +a nature so defenceless, and with such advantages of the position, that I +seemed to have practised.</p> + +<p>What was to become of us now? It seemed we could no longer dwell in the +one place. But where was I to go? or where she? Without either choice or +fault of ours, life had conspired to wall us together in that narrow place. +I had a wild thought of marrying out of hand; and the next moment put it +from me with revolt. She was a child, she could not tell her own heart; I +had surprised her weakness, I must never go <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_325" id="Page_325"></a>[pg 325]</span>on to build on that +surprisal; I must keep her not only clear of reproach, but free as she had +come to me.</p> + +<p>Down I sat before the fire, and reflected, and repented, and beat my +brains in vain for any means of escape. About two of the morning, there +were three red embers left and the house and all the city was asleep, when +I was aware of a small sound of weeping in the next room. She thought that +I slept, the poor soul; she regretted her weakness--and what perhaps (God +help her!) she called her forwardness--and in the dead of the night solaced +herself with tears. Tender and bitter feelings, love and penitence and pity +struggled in my soul; it seemed I was under bond to heal that weeping.</p> + +<p>"O, try to forgive me!" I cried out, "try, try to forgive me. Let us +forget it all, let us try if we'll no can forget it!"</p> + +<p>There came no answer, but the sobbing ceased. I stood a long while with +my hands still clasped as I had spoken; then the cold of the night laid +hold upon me with a shudder, and I think my reason reawakened.</p> + +<p>"You can make no hand of this, Davie," thinks I. "To bed with you like a +wise lad, and try if you can sleep. To-morrow you may see your way."</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326"></a>[pg +326]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXV'></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>THE RETURN OF JAMES MORE</h3> + + +<p>I was called on the morrow out of a late and troubled slumber by a +knocking on my door, ran to open it, and had almost swooned with the +contrariety of my feelings, mostly painful; for on the threshold, in a +rough wrapraseal and an extraordinary big laced hat, there stood James +More.</p> + +<p>I ought to have been glad perhaps without admixture, for there was a +sense in which the man came like an answer to prayer. I had been saying +till my head was weary that Catriona and I must separate, and looking till +my head ached for any possible means of separation. Here were the means +come to me upon two legs, and joy was the hindmost of my thoughts. It is to +be considered, however, that even if the weight of the future were lifted +off me by the man's arrival, the present heaved up the more black and +menacing; so that, as I first stood before him in my shirt and breeches, I +believe I took a leaping step backward like a person shot.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said he, "I have found you, Mr. Balfour." And offered me his +large, fine hand, the which (recovering <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_327" id="Page_327"></a>[pg 327]</span>at the same time my post +in the doorway, as if with some thought of resistance) I took him by +doubtfully. "It is a remarkable circumstance how our affairs appear to +intermingle," he continued. "I am owing you an apology for an unfortunate +intrusion upon yours, which I suffered myself to be entrapped into by my +confidence in that false-face, Prestongrange; I think shame to own to you +that I was ever trusting to a lawyer." He shrugged his shoulders with a +very French air. "But indeed the man is very plausible," says he. "And now +it seems that you have busied yourself handsomely in the matter of my +daughter, for whose direction I was remitted to yourself."</p> + +<p>"I think, sir," said I, with a very painful air, "that it will be +necessary we two should have an explanation."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing amiss?" he asked. "My agent, Mr. Sprott--"</p> + +<p>"For God's sake moderate your voice!" I cried. "She must not hear till +we have had an explanation."</p> + +<p>"She is in this place?" cries he.</p> + +<p>"That is her chamber door," said I.</p> + +<p>"You are here with her alone?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"And who else would I have got to stay with us?" cries I.</p> + +<p>I will do him the justice to admit that he turned pale.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328"></a>[pg +328]</span>"This is very unusual," said he. "This is a very unusual +circumstance. You are right, we must hold an explanation."</p> + +<p>So saying, he passed me by, and I must own the tall old rogue appeared +at that moment extraordinary dignified. He had now, for the first time, the +view of my chamber, which I scanned (I may say) with his eyes. A bit of +morning sun glinted in by the window pane, and showed it off; my bed, my +mails, and washing dish, with some disorder of my clothes, and the +unlighted chimney, made the only plenishing; no mistake but it looked bare +and cold, and the most unsuitable, beggarly place conceivable to harbour a +young lady. At the same time came in on my mind the recollection of the +clothes that I had bought for her; and I thought this contrast of poverty +and prodigality bore an ill appearance.</p> + +<p>He looked all about the chamber for a seat, and finding nothing else to +his purpose except my bed, took a place upon the side of it; where, after I +had closed the door, I could not very well avoid joining him. For however +this extraordinary interview might end, it must pass if possible without +waking Catriona; and the one thing needful was that we should sit close and +talk low. But I can scarce picture what a pair we made; he in his great +coat which the coldness of my chamber made extremely suitable; I shivering +in my shirt and breeks; he with very much the air of a judge; and I +(whatever <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329"></a>[pg +329]</span>I looked) with very much the feelings of a man who has heard the +last trumpet.</p> + +<p>"Well?" says he.</p> + +<p>And "Well" I began, but found myself unable to go further.</p> + +<p>"You tell me she is here?" said he again, but now with a spice of +impatiency that seemed to brace me up.</p> + +<p>"She is in this house," said I, "and I knew the circumstance would be +called unusual. But you are to consider how very unusual the whole business +was from the beginning. Here is a young lady landed on the coast of Europe +with two shillings and a penny halfpenny. She is directed to yon man Sprott +in Helvoet. I hear you call him your agent. All I can say is he could do +nothing but damn and swear at the mere mention of your name, and I must fee +him out of my own pocket even to receive the custody of her effects, You +speak of unusual circumstances, Mr. Drummond, if that be the name you +prefer. Here was a circumstance, if you like, to which it was barbarity to +have exposed her."</p> + +<p>"But this is what I cannot understand the least," said James. "My +daughter was placed into the charge of some responsible persons, whose +names I have forgot."</p> + +<p>"Gebbie was the name," said I; "and there is no doubt that Mr. Gebbie +should have gone ashore with her at Helvoet. But he did not, Mr. Drummond; +and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"></a>[pg +330]</span>I think you might praise God that I was there to offer in his +place."</p> + +<p>"I shall have a word to say to Mr. Gebbie before done," said he. "As for +yourself, I think it might have occurred that you were somewhat young for +such a post."</p> + +<p>"But the choice was not between me and somebody else, it was between me +and nobody," I cried. "Nobody offered in my place, and I must say I think +you show a very small degree of gratitude to me that did."</p> + +<p>"I shall wait until I understand my obligation a little more in the +particular," says he.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and I think it stares you in the face, then," said I. "Your +child was deserted, she was clean flung away in the midst of Europe, with +scarce two shillings, and not two words of any language spoken there: I +must say, a bonny business! I brought her to this place. I gave her the +name and the tenderness due to a sister. All this has not gone without +expense, but that I scarce need to hint at. They were services due to the +young lady's character which I respect; and I think it would be a bonny +business too, if I was to be singing her praises to her father."</p> + +<p>"You are a young man," he began.</p> + +<p>"So I hear you tell me," said I, with a good deal of heat.</p> + +<p>"You are a very young man," he repeated, "or you would have understood +the significancy of the step."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331"></a>[pg +331]</span>"I think you speak very much at your ease," cried I. "What else +was I to do? It is a fact I might have hired some decent, poor woman to be +a third to us, and I declare I never thought of it until this moment! But +where was I to find her, that am a foreigner myself? And let me point out +to your observation, Mr. Drummond, that it would have cost me money out of +my pocket. For here is just what it comes to, that I had to pay through the +nose for your neglect; and there is only the one story to it, just that you +were so unloving and so careless as to have lost your daughter."</p> + +<p>"He that lives in a glass house should not be casting stones," says he; +"and we will finish inquiring into the behaviour of Miss Drummond, before +we go on to sit in judgment on her father."</p> + +<p>"But I will be entrapped into no such attitude," said I. "The character +of Miss Drummond is far above inquiry, as her father ought to know. So is +mine, and I am telling you that. There are but the two ways of it open. The +one is to express your thanks to me as one gentleman to another, and to say +no more. The other (if you are so difficult as to be still dissatisfied) is +to pay me that which I have expended and be done."</p> + +<p>He seemed to soothe me with a hand in the air.</p> + +<p>"There, there," said he. "You go too fast, you go too fast, Mr. Balfour. +It is a good thing that I have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" +id="Page_332"></a>[pg 332]</span>learned to be more patient. And I believe +you forget that I have yet to see my daughter."</p> + +<p>I began to be a little relieved upon this speech and a change in the +man's manner that I spied in him as soon as the name of money fell between +us.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking it would be more fit--if you will excuse the plainness +of my dressing in your presence--that I should go forth and leave you to +encounter her alone?" said I.</p> + +<p>"What I would have looked for at your hands!" says he; and there was no +mistake but what he said it civilly.</p> + +<p>I thought this better and better still, and as I began to pull on my +hose, recalling the man's impudent mendicancy at Prestongrange's, I +determined to pursue what seemed to be my victory.</p> + +<p>"If you have any mind to stay some while in Leyden," said I, "this room +is very much at your disposal, and I can easy find another for myself: in +which way we shall have the least amount of flitting possible, there being +only one to change."</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said he, making his bosom big, "I think no shame of a +poverty I have come by in the service of my king; I make no secret that my +affairs are quite involved; and for the moment, it would be even impossible +for me to undertake a journey."</p> + +<p>"Until you have occasion to communicate with your friends," said I, +"perhaps it might be convenient <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" +id="Page_333"></a>[pg 333]</span>for you (as of course it would be +honourable to myself) if you were to regard yourself in the light of my +guest?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, "when an offer is frankly made, I think I honour myself +most to imitate that frankness. Your hand, Mr. David; you have the +character that I respect the most; you are one of those from whom a +gentleman can take a favour and no more words about it. I am an old +soldier," he went on, looking rather disgusted-like around my chamber, "and +you need not fear I shall prove burthensome. I have ate too often at a +dyke-side, drank of the ditch, and had no roof but the rain."</p> + +<p>"I should be telling you," said I, "that our breakfasts are sent +customarily in about this time of morning. I propose I should go now to the +tavern, and bid them add a cover for yourself and delay the meal the matter +of an hour, which will give you an interval to meet your daughter in."</p> + +<p>Methought his nostrils wagged at this. "O, an hour," says he. "That is +perhaps superfluous. Half an hour, Mr. David, or say twenty minutes; I +shall do very well in that. And by the way," he adds, detaining me by the +coat, "what is it you drink in the morning, whether ale or wine?"</p> + +<p>"To be frank with you, sir," says I, "I drink nothing else but spare, +cold water?"</p> + +<p>"Tut-tut," says he, "that is fair destruction to the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334"></a>[pg +334]</span>stomach, take an old campaigner's word for it. Our country +spirit at home is perhaps the most entirely wholesome; but as that is not +come-at-able, Rhenish or a white wine of Burgundy will be next best."</p> + +<p>"I shall make it my business to see you are supplied," said I.</p> + +<p>"Why, very good," said he, "and we shall make a man of you yet, Mr. +David."</p> + +<p>By this time, I can hardly say that I was minding him at all, beyond an +odd thought of the kind of father-in-law that he was like to prove; and all +my cares centred about the lass his daughter, to whom I determined to +convey some warning of her visitor. I stepped to the door accordingly, and +cried through the panels, knocking thereon at the same time: "Miss +Drummond, here is your father come at last."</p> + +<p>With that I went forth upon my errand, having (by two words) +extraordinarily damaged my affairs.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335"></a>[pg +335]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXVI'></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>THE THREESOME</h3> + + +<p>Whether or not I was to be so much blamed, or rather perhaps pitied, I +must leave others to judge of. My shrewdness (of which I have a good deal, +too) seems not so great with the ladies. No doubt, at the moment when I +awaked her, I was thinking a good deal of the effect upon James More; and +similarly when I returned and we were all sat down to breakfast, I +continued to behave to the young lady with deference and distance; as I +still think to have been most wise. Her father had cast doubts upon the +innocence of my friendship; and these, it was my first business to allay. +But there is a kind of an excuse for Catriona also. We had shared in a +scene of some tenderness and passion, and given and received caresses; I +had thrust her from me with violence; I had called aloud upon her in the +night from the one room to the other; she had passed hours of wakefulness +and weeping; and it is not to be supposed I had been absent from her pillow +thoughts. Upon the back of this, to be awaked, with unaccustomed formality, +under the name of Miss Drummond, and to be thenceforth used with a great +deal of distance <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" +id="Page_336"></a>[pg 336]</span>and respect, led her entirely in error on +my private sentiments; and she was indeed so incredibly abused as to +imagine me repentant and trying to draw off!</p> + +<p>The trouble betwixt us seems to have been this: that whereas I (since I +had first set eyes on his great hat) thought singly of James More, his +return and suspicions, she made so little of these that I may say she +scarce remarked them, and all her troubles and doings regarded what had +passed between us in the night before. This is partly to be explained by +the innocence and boldness of her character; and partly because James More, +having sped so ill in his interview with me, or had his mouth closed by my +invitation, said no word to her upon the subject. At the breakfast, +accordingly, it soon appeared we were at cross purposes. I had looked to +find her in clothes of her own: I found her (as if her father were +forgotten) wearing some of the best that I had bought for her and which she +knew (or thought) that I admired her in. I had looked to find her imitate +my affectation of distance, and be most precise and formal; instead I found +her flushed and wild-like, with eyes extraordinary bright, and a painful +and varying expression, calling me by name with a sort of appeal of +tenderness, and referring and deferring to my thoughts and wishes like an +anxious or a suspected wife.</p> + + + +<a name="balfour008"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour008.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: YOU TELL ME SHE IS HERE? SAID HE AGAIN" +src="images/balfour008sm.jpg" height="550" width="383" /></a> +<br />YOU TELL ME SHE IS HERE? SAID HE AGAIN + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + + +<p>But this was not for long. As I beheld her so regardless of her own +interests, which I had jeopardised <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" +id="Page_337"></a>[pg 337]</span>and was now endeavoring to recover, I +redoubled my own boldness in the manner of a lesson to the girl. The more +she came forward, the further I drew back; the more she betrayed the +closeness of our intimacy, the more pointedly civil I became, until even +her father (if he had not been so engrossed with eating) might have +observed the opposition. In the midst of which, of a sudden, she became +wholly changed, and I told myself, with a good deal of relief, that she had +took the hint at last.</p> + +<p>All day I was at my classes or in quest of my new lodging; and though +the hour of our customary walk hung miserably on my hands, I cannot say but +I was happy on the whole to find my way cleared, the girl again in proper +keeping, the father satisfied or at least acquiescent, and myself free to +prosecute my love with honour. At supper, as at all our meals, it was James +More that did the talking. No doubt but he talked well, if anyone could +have believed him. But I will speak of him presently more at large. The +meal at an end, he rose, got his great coat, and looking (as I thought) at +me, observed he had affairs abroad. I took this for a hint that I was to be +going also, and got up; whereupon the girl, who had scarce given me +greeting at my entrance, turned her eyes on me wide open, with a look that +bade me stay. I stood between them like a fish out of water, turning from +one to the other; neither seemed to observe me, she gazing on the floor, he +buttoning <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338"></a>[pg +338]</span>his coat: which vastly swelled my embarrassment. This appearance +of indifferency argued, upon her side, a good deal of anger very near to +burst out. Upon his, I thought it horribly alarming; I made sure there was +a tempest brewing there; and considering that to be the chief peril, turned +towards him and put myself (so to speak) in the man's hands.</p> + +<p>"Can I do anything for <i>you</i>, Mr. Drummond?" says I.</p> + +<p>He stifled a yawn, which again I thought to be duplicity. "Why, Mr. +David," said he, "since you are so obliging as to propose it, you might +show me the way to a certain tavern" (of which he gave the name) "where I +hope to fall in with some old companions in arms."</p> + +<p>There was no more to say, and I got my hat and cloak to bear him +company.</p> + +<p>"And as for you," he says to his daughter, "you had best go to your bed. +I shall be late home, and <i>Early to bed and early to rise, gars bonny +lasses have bright eyes."</i></p> + +<p>Whereupon he kissed her with a good deal of tenderness, and ushered me +before him from the door. This was so done (I thought on purpose) that it +was scarce possible there should be any parting salutation; but I observed +she did not look at me, and set it down to terror of James More.</p> + +<p>It was some distance to that tavern. He talked all <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339"></a>[pg 339]</span>the way +of matters which did not interest me the smallest, and at the door +dismissed me with empty manners. Thence I walked to my new lodging, where I +had not so much as a chimney to hold me warm, and no society but my own +thoughts. These were still bright enough; I did not so much as dream that +Catriona was turned against me; I thought we were like folk pledged; I +thought we had been too near and spoke too warmly to be severed, least of +all by what were only steps in a most needful policy. And the chief of my +concern was only the kind of father-in-law that I was getting, which was +not at all the kind I would have chosen: and the matter of how soon I ought +to speak to him, which was a delicate point on several sides. In the first +place, when I thought how young I was, I blushed all over, and could almost +have found it in my heart to have desisted; only that if once I let them go +from Leyden without explanation, I might lose her altogether. And in the +second place, there was our very irregular situation to be kept in view, +and the rather scant measure of satisfaction I had given James More that +morning. I concluded, on the whole, that delay would not hurt anything, yet +I would not delay too long neither; and got to my cold bed with a full +heart.</p> + +<p>The next day, as James More seemed a little on the complaining hand in +the matter of my chamber, I offered to have in more furniture; and coming +in the afternoon, with porters bringing chairs and tables, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340"></a>[pg 340]</span>found +the girl once more left to herself. She greeted me on my admission civilly, +but withdrew at once to her own room, of which she shut the door. I made my +disposition, and paid and dismissed the men so that she might hear them go, +when I supposed she would at once come forth again to speak to me. I waited +yet awhile, then knocked upon her door.</p> + +<p>"Catriona!" said I.</p> + +<p>The door was opened so quickly, even before I had the word out, that I +thought she must have stood behind it listening. She remained there in the +interval quite still; but she had a look that I cannot put a name on, as of +one in a bitter trouble.</p> + +<p>"Are we not to have our walk to-day either?" so I faltered.</p> + +<p>"I am thanking you," said she. "I will not be caring much to walk, now +that my father is come home."</p> + +<p>"But I think he has gone out himself and left you here alone," said +I.</p> + +<p>"And do you think that was very kindly said?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"It was not unkindly meant," I replied. "What ails you, Catriona? What +have I done to you that you should turn from me like this?"</p> + +<p>"I do not turn from you at all," she said, speaking very carefully. "I +will ever be grateful to my friend that was good to me; I will ever be his +friend in all that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" +id="Page_341"></a>[pg 341]</span>I am able. But now that my father James +More is come again, there is a difference to be made, and I think there are +some things said and done that would be better to be forgotten. But I will +ever be your friend in all that I am able, and if that is not all that . . . +if it is not so much. . . . Not that you will be caring! But I would not have +you think of me too hard. It was true what you said to me, that I was too +young to be advised, and I am hoping you will remember I was just a child. +I would not like to lose your friendship, at all events."</p> + +<p>She began this very pale; but before she was done, the blood was in her +face like scarlet, so that not her words only, but her face and the +trembling of her very hands, besought me to be gentle. I saw for the first +time, how very wrong I had done to place the child in that position, where +she had been entrapped into a moment's weakness, and now stood before me +like a person shamed.</p> + +<p>"Miss Drummond," I said, and stuck, and made the same beginning once +again, "I wish you could see into my heart," I cried. "You would read there +that my respect is undiminished. If that were possible, I should say it was +increased. This is but the result of the mistake we made; and had to come; +and the less said of it now the better. Of all of our life here, I promise +you it shall never pass my lips; I would like to promise you too that I +would never think of it, but it's a memory <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_342" id="Page_342"></a>[pg 342]</span>that will be always dear +to me. And as for a friend, you have one here that would die for you."</p> + +<p>"I am thanking you," said she.</p> + +<p>We stood awhile silent, and my sorrow for myself began to get the upper +hand; for here were all my dreams come to a sad tumble, and my love lost, +and myself alone again in the world as at the beginning.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "we shall be friends always, that's a certain thing. But +this is a kind of a farewell too: it's a kind of a farewell after all; I +shall always ken Miss Drummond, but this is a farewell to my Catriona."</p> + +<p>I looked at her; I could hardly say I saw her, but she seemed to grow +great and brighten in my eyes; and with that I suppose I must have lost my +head, for I called out her name again and made a step at her with my hands +reached forth.</p> + +<p>She shrank back like a person struck, her face flamed; but the blood +sprang no faster up into her cheeks, than what it flowed back upon my own +heart, at sight of it, with penitence and concern. I found no words to +excuse myself, but bowed before her very deep, and went my ways out of the +house with death in my bosom.</p> + +<p>I think it was about five days that followed without any change. I saw +her scarce ever but at meals, and then of course in the company of James +More. If we were alone even for a moment, I made it my devoir to behave the +more distantly and to multiply respectful attentions, having always in my +mind's eye that picture of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" +id="Page_343"></a>[pg 343]</span>the girl shrinking and flaming in a blush, +and in my heart more pity for her than I could depict in words. I was sorry +enough for myself, I need not dwell on that, having fallen all my length +and more than all my height in a few seconds; but, indeed, I was near as +sorry for the girl, and sorry enough to be scarce angry with her save by +fits and starts. Her plea was good: she was but a child; she had been +placed in an unfair position; if she had deceived herself and me, it was no +more than was to have been looked for.</p> + +<p>And for another thing she was now very much alone. Her father, when he +was by, was rather a caressing parent; but he was very easy led away by his +affairs and pleasures, neglected her without compunction or remark, spent +his nights in taverns when he had the money, which was more often than I +could at all account for; and even in the course of these few days, failed +once to come to a meal, which Catriona and I were at last compelled to +partake of without him. It was the evening meal, and I left immediately +that I had eaten, observing I supposed she would prefer to be alone; to +which she agreed and (strange as it may seem) I quite believed her. Indeed, +I thought myself but an eyesore to the girl, and a reminder of a moment's +weakness that she now abhorred to think of. So she must sit alone in that +room where she and I had been so merry, and in the blink of that chimney +whose light had shone upon our many difficult and tender moments. There she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344"></a>[pg +344]</span>must sit alone, and think of herself as of a maid who had most +unmaidenly proffered her affections and had the same rejected. And in the +meanwhile I would be alone some other place, and reading myself (whenever I +was tempted to be angry) lessons upon human frailty and female delicacy. +And altogether I suppose there were never two poor fools made themselves +more unhappy in a greater misconception.</p> + +<p>As for James, he paid not so much heed to us, or to anything in nature +but his pocket, and his belly, and his own prating talk. Before twelve +hours were gone he had raised a small loan of me; before thirty, he had +asked for a second and been refused. Money and refusal he took with the +same kind of high good-nature. Indeed, he had an outside air of magnanimity +that was very well fitted to impose upon a daughter; and the light in which +he was constantly presented in his talk, and the man's fine presence and +great ways went together pretty harmoniously. So that a man that had no +business with him, and either very little penetration or a furious deal of +prejudice, might almost have been taken in. To me, after my first two +interviews, he was as plain as print; I saw him to be perfectly selfish, +with a perfect innocency in the same; and I would harken to his swaggering +talk (of arms, and "an old soldier," and "a poor Highland gentleman," and +"the strength of my country and my friends") as I might to the babbling of +a parrot.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345"></a>[pg +345]</span>The odd thing was that I fancy he believed some part of it +himself, or did at times; I think he was so false all through that he +scarce knew when he was lying; and for one thing, his moments of dejection +must have been wholly genuine. There were times when he would be the most +silent, affectionate, clinging creature possible, holding Catriona's hand +like a big baby, and begging of me not to leave if I had any love to him; +of which, indeed, I had none, but all the more to his daughter. He would +press and indeed beseech us to entertain him with our talk, a thing very +difficult in the state of our relations; and again break forth in pitiable +regrets for his own land and friends, or into Gaelic singing.</p> + +<p>"This is one of the melancholy airs of my native land," he would say. +"You may think it strange to see a soldier weep, and indeed it is to make a +near friend of you," says he. "But the notes of this singing are in my +blood, and the words come out of my heart. And when I mind upon my red +mountains and the wild birds calling there, and the brave streams of water +running down, I would scarce think shame to weep before my enemies." Then +he would sing again, and translate to me pieces of the song, with a great +deal of boggling and much expressed contempt against the English language. +"It says here," he would say, "that the sun is gone down, and the battle is +at an end, and the brave chiefs are defeated. And it tells <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346"></a>[pg 346]</span>here +how the stars see them fleeing into strange countries or lying dead on the +red mountain; and they will never more shout the call of battle or wash +their feet in the streams of the valley. But if you had only some of this +language, you would weep also because the words of it are beyond all +expression, and it is mere mockery to tell you it in English."</p> + +<p>Well, I thought there was a good deal of mockery in the business, one +way and another; and yet, there was some feeling too, for which I hated +him, I think, the worst of all. And it used to cut me to the quick to see +Catriona so much concerned for the old rogue, and weeping herself to see +him weep, when I was sure one-half of his distress flowed from his last +night's drinking in some tavern. There were times when I was tempted to +lend him a round sum, and see the last of him for good; but this would have +been to see the last of Catriona as well, for which I was scarcely so +prepared; and besides, it went against my conscience to squander my good +money on one who was so little of a husband.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347"></a>[pg +347]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXVII'></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>A TWOSOME</h3> + + +<p>I believe it was about the fifth day, and I know at least that James was +in one of his fits of gloom, when I received three letters. The first was +from Alan, offering to visit me in Leyden; the other two were out of +Scotland and prompted by the same affair, which was the death of my uncle +and my own complete accession to my rights. Rankeillor's was, of course, +wholly in the business view; Miss Grant's was like herself, a little more +witty than wise, full of blame to me for not having written (though how was +I to write with such intelligence?) and of rallying talk about Catriona, +which it cut me to the quick to read in her very presence.</p> + +<p>For it was of course in my own rooms that I found them, when I came to +dinner, so that I was surprised out of my news in the very first moment of +reading it. This made a welcome diversion for all three of us, nor could +any have foreseen the ill consequences that ensued. It was accident that +brought the three letters the same day, and that gave them into my hand in +the same room with James More; and of all the events that <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348"></a>[pg 348]</span>flowed +from that accident, and which I might have prevented if I had held my +tongue, the truth is that they were preordained before Agricola came into +Scotland or Abraham set out upon his travels.</p> + +<p>The first that I opened was naturally Alan's; and what more natural than +that I should comment on his design to visit me? but I observed James to +sit up with an air of immediate attention.</p> + +<p>"Is that not Alan Breck that was suspected of the Appin accident?" he +inquired.</p> + +<p>I told him, "Ay," it was the same; and he withheld me some time from my +other letters, asking of our acquaintance, of Alan's manner of life in +France, of which I knew very little, and further of his visit as now +proposed.</p> + +<p>"All we forfeited folk hang a little together," he explained, "and +besides I know the gentleman: and though his descent is not the thing, and +indeed he has no true right to use the name of Stewart, he was very much +admired in the day of Drummossie. He did there like a soldier; if some that +need not be named had done as well, the upshot need not have been so +melancholy to remember. There were two that did their best that day, and it +makes a bond between the pair of us," says he.</p> + +<p>I could scarce refrain from shooting out my tongue at him, and could +almost have wished that Alan had been there to have inquired a little +further into that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" +id="Page_349"></a>[pg 349]</span>mention of his birth. Though, they tell +me, the same was indeed not wholly regular.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, I had opened Miss Grant's, and could not withhold an +exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," I cried, forgetting, the first time since her father was +arrived, to address her by a handle, "I am come into my kingdom fairly, I +am the laird of Shaws indeed--my uncle is dead at last."</p> + +<p>She clapped her hands together leaping from her seat. The next moment it +must have come over both of us at once what little cause of joy was left to +either, and we stood opposite, staring on each other sadly.</p> + +<p>But James showed himself a ready hypocrite. "My daughter," says he, "is +this how my cousin learned you to behave? Mr. David has lost a near friend, +and we should first condole with him on his bereavement."</p> + +<p>"Troth, sir," said I, turning to him in a kind of anger, "I can make no +such faces. His death is as blythe news as ever I got."</p> + +<p>"It's a good soldier's philosophy," says James. "'Tis the way of flesh, +we must all go, all go. And if the gentleman was so far from your favour, +why, very well! But we may at least congratulate you on your accession to +your estates."</p> + +<p>"Nor can I say that either," I replied, with the same heat. "It is a +good estate; what matters that to a lone man that has enough already? I had +a good revenue before in my frugality; and but for the man's <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350"></a>[pg +350]</span>death--which gratifies me, shame to me that must confess it!--I +see not how anyone is to be bettered by this change."</p> + +<p>"Come, come," said he, "you are more affected than you let on, or you +would never make yourself out so lonely. Here are three letters; that means +three that wish you well; and I could name two more, here in this very +chamber. I have known you not so very long, but Catriona, when we are +alone, is never done with the singing of your praises."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him, a little wild at that; and he slid off at once +into another matter, the extent of my estate, which (during the most of the +dinner time) he continued to dwell upon with interest. But it was to no +purpose he dissembled; he had touched the matter with too gross a hand: and +I knew what to expect. Dinner was scarce ate when he plainly discovered his +designs. He reminded Catriona of an errand, and bid her attend to it. "I do +not see you should be gone beyond the hour," he added, "and friend David +will be good enough to bear me company till you return." She made haste to +obey him without words. I do not know if she understood, I believe not; but +I was completely satisfied, and sat strengthening my mind for what should +follow.</p> + +<p>The door had scarce closed behind her departure, when the man leaned +back in his chair and addressed me with a good affectation of easiness. +Only the one <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351"></a>[pg +351]</span>thing betrayed him and that was his face; which suddenly shone +all over with fine points of sweat.</p> + +<p>"I am rather glad to have a word alone with you," says he, "because in +our first interview there were some expressions you misapprehended and I +have long meant to set you right upon. My daughter stands beyond doubt. So +do you, and I would make that good with my sword against all gainsayers. +But, my dear David, this world is a censorious place--as who should know it +better than myself, who have lived ever since the days of my late departed +father, God sain him! in a perfect spate of calumnies? We have to face to +that; you and me have to consider of that; we have to consider of that." +And he wagged his head like a minister in a pulpit.</p> + +<p>"To what effect, Mr. Drummond?" said I. "I would be obliged to you if +you would approach your point."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," says he, laughing, "like your character indeed! and what I +most admire in it. But the point, my worthy fellow, is sometimes in a +kittle bit." He filled a glass of wine. "Though between you and me, that +are such fast friends, it need not bother us long. The point, I need +scarcely tell you, is my daughter. And the first thing is that I have no +thought in my mind of blaming you. In the unfortunate circumstances, what +could you do else? 'Deed, and I cannot tell."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352"></a>[pg +352]</span>"I thank you for that," said I, pretty close upon my guard.</p> + +<p>"I have besides studied your character," he went on; "your talents are +fair; you seem to have a moderate competence; which does no harm; and one +thing with another, I am very happy to have to announce to you that I have +decided on the latter of the two ways open."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I am dull," said I. "What ways are these?"</p> + +<p>He bent his brows upon me formidably and uncrossed his legs. "Why, sir," +says he, "I think I need scarce describe them to a gentleman of your +condition; either that I should cut your throat or that you should marry my +daughter."</p> + +<p>"You are pleased to be quite plain at last," said I.</p> + +<p>"And I believe I have been plain from the beginning!" cries he +robustiously. "I am a careful parent, Mr. Balfour; but I thank God, a +patient and deleeberate man. There is many a father, sir, that would have +hirsled you at once either to the altar or the field. My esteem for your +character--"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Drummond," I interrupted, "if you have any esteem for me at all, I +will beg of you to moderate your voice. It is quite needless to rowt at a +gentleman in the same chamber with yourself and lending you his best +attention."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353"></a>[pg +353]</span>"Why, very true," says he, with an immediate change. "And you +must excuse the agitations of a parent."</p> + +<p>"I understand you then," I continued--"for I will take no note of your +other alternative, which perhaps it was a pity you let fall--I understand +you rather to offer me encouragement in case I should desire to apply for +your daughter's hand?"</p> + +<p>"It is not possible to express my meaning better," said he, "and I see +we shall do well together."</p> + +<p>"That remains to be yet seen," said I. "But so much I need make no +secret of, that I bear the lady you refer to the most tender affection, and +I could not fancy, even in a dream, a better fortune than to get her."</p> + +<p>"I was sure of it, I felt certain of you, David," he cried, and reached +out his hand to me.</p> + +<p>I put it by. "You go too fast, Mr. Drummond," said I. "There are +conditions to be made; and there is a difficulty in the path, which I see +not entirely how we shall come over. I have told you that, upon my side, +there is no objection to the marriage, but I have good reason to believe +there will be much on the young lady's."</p> + +<p>"This is all beside the mark," says he. "I will engage for her +acceptance."</p> + +<p>"I think you forget, Mr. Drummond," said I, "that, even in dealing with +myself you have been betrayed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" +id="Page_354"></a>[pg 354]</span>into two-three unpalatable expressions. I +will have none such employed to the young lady. I am here to speak and +think for the two of us; and I give you to understand that I would no more +let a wife be forced upon myself, than what I would let a husband be forced +on the young lady."</p> + +<p>He sat and glowered at me like one in doubt and a good deal of +temper.</p> + +<p>"So that this is to be the way of it," I concluded. "I will marry Miss +Drummond, and that blythely, if she is entirely willing. But if there be +the least unwillingness, as I have reason to fear--marry her will I +never."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said he, "this is a small affair. As soon as she returns I +will sound her a bit, and hope to reassure you----"</p> + +<p>But I cut in again. "Not a finger of you, Mr. Drummond, or I cry off, +and you can seek a husband to your daughter somewhere else," said I. "It is +I that am to be the only dealer and the only judge. I shall satisfy myself +exactly; and none else shall anyways meddle--you the least of all."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, sir!" he exclaimed, "and who are you to be the +judge?"</p> + +<p>"The bridegroom, I believe," said I.</p> + +<p>"This is to quibble," he cried. "You turn your back upon the facts. The +girl, my daughter, has no choice left to exercise. Her character is +gone."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355"></a>[pg +355]</span>"And I ask your pardon," said I, "but while this matter lies +between her and you and me, that is not so."</p> + +<p>"What security have I!" he cried. "Am I to let my daughter's reputation +depend upon a chance?"</p> + +<p>"You should have thought of all this long ago," said I, "before you were +so misguided as to lose her; and not afterwards, when it is quite too late. +I refuse to regard myself as any way accountable for your neglect, and I +will be browbeat by no man living. My mind is quite made up, and come what +may, I will not depart from it a hair's breadth. You and me are to sit here +in company till her return; upon which, without either word or look from +you, she and I are to go forth again to hold our talk. If she can satisfy +me that she is willing to this step, I will then make it; and if she +cannot, I will not."</p> + +<p>He leaped out of his seat like a man stung. "I can spy your manoeuvre," +he cried; "you would work upon her to refuse!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe ay, and maybe no," said I. "That is the way it is to be, +whatever."</p> + +<p>"And if I refuse?" cries he.</p> + +<p>"Then, Mr. Drummond, it will have to come to the throat-cutting," said +I.</p> + +<p>What with the size of the man, his great length of arm in which he came +near rivalling his father, and his reputed skill at weapons, I did not use +this word without <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" +id="Page_356"></a>[pg 356]</span>some trepidation, to say nothing at all of +the circumstance that he was Catriona's father. But I might have spared +myself alarms. From the poorness of my lodging--he does not seem to have +remarked his daughter's dresses, which were indeed all equally new to +him--and from the fact that I had shown myself averse to lend, he had +embraced a strong idea of my poverty. The sudden news of my estate +convinced him of his error, and he had made but the one bound of it on this +fresh venture, to which he was now so wedded, that I believe he would have +suffered anything rather than fall to the alternative of fighting.</p> + +<p>A little while longer he continued to dispute with me until I hit upon a +word that silenced him.</p> + +<p>"If I find you so averse to let me see the lady by herself," said I, "I +must suppose you have very good grounds to think me in the right about her +unwillingness."</p> + +<p>He gabbled some kind of an excuse.</p> + +<p>"But all this is very exhausting to both of our tempers," I added, "and +I think we would do better to preserve a judicious silence."</p> + +<p>The which we did until the girl returned, and I must suppose would have +cut a very ridiculous figure, had there been any there to view us.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357"></a>[pg +357]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXVIII'></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I AM LEFT ALONE</h3> + + +<p>I opened the door to Catriona and stopped her on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Your father wishes us to take our walk," said I.</p> + +<p>She looked to James More, who nodded, and at that, like a trained +soldier, she turned to go with me.</p> + +<p>We took one of our old ways, where we had gone often together, and been +more happy than I can tell of in the past. I came a half a step behind, so +that I could watch her unobserved. The knocking of her little shoes upon +the way sounded extraordinary pretty and sad; and I thought it a strange +moment that I should be so near both ends of it at once, and walk in the +midst between two destinies, and could not tell whether I was hearing these +steps for the last time, or whether the sound of them was to go in and out +with me till death should part us.</p> + +<p>She avoided even to look at me, only walked before her, like one who had +a guess of what was coming. I saw I must speak soon before my courage was +run out, but where to begin I knew not. In this painful situation, when the +girl was as good as forced into my arms <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_358" id="Page_358"></a>[pg 358]</span>and had already besought +my forbearance, any excess of pressure must have seemed indecent; yet to +avoid it wholly would have a very cold-like appearance. Between these +extremes I stood helpless, and could have bit my fingers; so that, when at +last I managed to speak at all, it may be said I spoke at random.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said I, "I am in a very painful situation; or rather, so we +are both; and I would be a good deal obliged to you if you would promise to +let me speak through first of all, and not to interrupt till I have +done."</p> + +<p>She promised me that simply.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "this that I have got to say is very difficult, and I +know very well I have no right to be saying it. After what passed between +the two of us last Friday, I have no manner of right. We have got so +ravelled up (and all by my fault) that I know very well the least I could +do is just to hold my tongue, which was what I intended fully, and there +was nothing further from my thoughts than to have troubled you again. But, +my dear, it has become merely necessary, and no way by it. You see, this +estate of mine has fallen in, which makes me rather a better match; and +the--the business would not have quite the same ridiculous-like appearance +that it would before. Besides which, it's supposed that our affairs have +got so much ravelled up (as I was saying) that it would be better to let +them be the way they are. In my view, this part of <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_359" id="Page_359"></a>[pg 359]</span>the thing is vastly +exaggerate, and if I were you I would not wear two thoughts on it. Only +it's right I should mention the same, because there's no doubt it has some +influence on James More. Then I think we were none so unhappy when we dwelt +together in this town before. I think we did pretty well together. If you +would look back, my dear--"</p> + +<p>"I will look neither back nor forward," she interrupted. "Tell me the +one thing: this is my father's doing?"</p> + +<p>"He approves of it," said I. "He approved that I should ask your hand in +marriage," and was going on again with somewhat more of an appeal upon her +feelings; but she marked me not, and struck into the midst.</p> + +<p>"He told you to!" she cried. "It is no sense denying it, you said +yourself that there was nothing farther from your thoughts. He told you +to."</p> + +<p>"He spoke of it the first, if that is what you mean," I began.</p> + +<p>She was walking ever the faster, and looking fair in front of her; but +at this she made a little noise in her head, and I thought she would have +run.</p> + +<p>"Without which," I went on, "after what you said last Friday, I would +never have been so troublesome as make the offer. But when he as good as +asked me, what was I to do?"</p> + +<p>She stopped and turned round upon me.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360"></a>[pg +360]</span>"Well, it is refused at all events," she cried, "and there will +be an end of that."</p> + +<p>And she began to walk forward.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I could expect no better," said I, "but I think you might try +to be a little kind to me for the last end of it. I see not why you should +be harsh. I have loved you very well, Catriona--no harm that I should call +you so for the last time. I have done the best that I could manage, I am +trying the same still, and only vexed that I can do no better. It is a +strange thing to me that you can take any pleasure to be hard to me."</p> + +<p>"I am not thinking of you," she said, "I am thinking of that man, my +father."</p> + +<p>"Well, and that way, too!" said I. "I can be of use to you that way, +too; I will have to be. It is very needful, my dear, that we should consult +about your father; for the way this talk has gone, an angry man will be +James More."</p> + +<p>She stopped again. "It is because I am disgraced?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"That is what he is thinking," I replied, "but I have told you already +to make nought of it."</p> + +<p>"It will be all one to me," she cried. "I prefer to be disgraced!"</p> + +<p>I did not know very well what to answer, and stood silent.</p> + +<p>There seemed to be something working in her <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_361" id="Page_361"></a>[pg 361]</span>bosom after that last cry; +presently she broke out, "And what is the meaning of all this? Why is all +this shame loundered on my head? How could you dare it, David Balfour?"</p> + +<p>"My dear," said I, "what else was I to do?"</p> + +<p>"I am not your dear," she said, "and I defy you to be calling me these +words."</p> + +<p>"I am not thinking of my words," said I. "My heart bleeds for you, Miss +Drummond. Whatever I may say, be sure you have my pity in your difficult +position. But there is just the one thing that I wish you would bear in +view, if it was only long enough to discuss it quietly; for there is going +to be a collieshangie when we two get home. Take my word for it, it will +need the two of us to make this matter end in peace."</p> + +<p>"Ay," said she. There sprang a patch of red in either of her cheeks. +"Was he for fighting you?" said she.</p> + +<p>"Well, he was that," said I.</p> + +<p>She gave a dreadful kind of laugh. "At all events, it is complete!" she +cried. And then turning on me: "My father and I are a fine pair," she said, +"but I am thanking the good God there will be somebody worse than what we +are. I am thanking the good God that he has let me see you so. There will +never be the girl made that would not scorn you."</p> + +<p>I had borne a good deal pretty patiently, but this was over the +mark.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362"></a>[pg +362]</span>"You have no right to speak to me like that," said I. "What have +I done but to be good to you, or try to? And here is my repayment! O, it is +too much."</p> + +<p>She kept looking at me with a hateful smile. "Coward!" said she.</p> + +<p>"The word in your throat and in your father's!" I cried. "I have dared +him this day already in your interest. I will dare him again, the nasty +pole-cat; little I care which of us should fall! Come," said I, "back to +the house with us; let us be done with it, let me be done with the whole +Hieland crew of you! You will see what you think when I am dead."</p> + +<p>She shook her head at me with that same smile I could have struck her +for.</p> + +<p>"O, smile away!" I cried. "I have seen your bonny father smile on the +wrong side this day. Not that I mean he was afraid, of course," I added +hastily, "but he preferred the other way of it."</p> + +<p>"What is this?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"When I offered to draw with him," said I.</p> + +<p>"You offered to draw upon James More?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"And I did so," said I, "and found him backward enough, or how would we +be here?"</p> + +<p>"There is a meaning upon this," said she. "What is it you are +meaning?"</p> + +<p>"He was to make you take me," I replied, "and I would not have it. I +said you should be free, and I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" +id="Page_363"></a>[pg 363]</span>must speak with you alone; little I +supposed it would be such a speaking! '<i>And what if I refuse</i>?' says +he.--'<i>Then it must come to the throat cutting</i>,' says I, '<i>for I +will no more have a husband forced on that young lady than what I would +have a wife forced upon myself</i>.' These were my words, they were a +friend's words; bonnily have I been paid for them! Now you have refused me +of your own clear free will, and there lives no father in the Highlands, or +out of them, that can force on this marriage. I will see that your wishes +are respected; I will make the same my business, as I have all through. But +I think you might have that decency as to affect some gratitude. 'Deed, and +I thought you knew me better! I have not behaved quite well to you, but +that was weakness. And to think me a coward and such a coward as that--O, +my lass, there was a stab for the last of it!"</p> + +<p>"Davie, how would I guess?" she cried. "O, this is a dreadful business! +Me and mine,"--she gave a kind of wretched cry at the word--"me and mine +are not fit to speak to you. O, I could be kneeling down to you in the +street, I could be kissing your hands for your forgiveness!"</p> + +<p>"I will keep the kisses I have got from you already," cried I. "I will +keep the ones I wanted and that were something worth; I will not be kissed +in penitence."</p> + +<p>"What can you be thinking of this miserable girl?" says she.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364"></a>[pg +364]</span>"What I am trying to tell you all this while!" said I, "that you +had best leave me alone, whom you can make no more unhappy if you tried, +and turn your attention to James More, your father, with whom you are like +to have a queer pirn to wind."</p> + +<p>"O, that I must be going out into the world alone with such a man!" she +cried, and seemed to catch herself in with a great effort. "But trouble +yourself no more for that," said she. "He does not know what kind of nature +is in my heart. He will pay me dear for this day of it; dear, dear, will he +pay."</p> + +<p>She turned, and began to go home and I to accompany her. At which she +stopped.</p> + +<p>"I will be going alone," she said. "It is alone I must be seeing +him."</p> + +<p>Some little while I raged about the streets, and told myself I was the +worst used lad in Christendom. Anger choked me; it was all very well for me +to breathe deep; it seemed there was not air enough about Leyden to supply +me, and I thought I would have burst like a man at the bottom of the sea. I +stopped and laughed at myself at a street corner a minute together, +laughing out loud, so that a passenger looked at me, which brought me to +myself.</p> + +<p>"Well," I thought, "I have been a gull and a ninny and a soft Tommy long +enough. Time it was done. Here is a good lesson to have nothing to do with +that accursed sex, that was the ruin of the man in the <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365"></a>[pg +365]</span>beginning and will be so to the end. God knows I was happy +enough before ever I saw her; God knows I can be happy enough again when I +have seen the last of her."</p> + +<p>That seemed to me the chief affair: to see them go. I dwelled upon the +idea fiercely; and presently slipped on, in a kind of malevolence, to +consider how very poorly they were like to fare when Davie Balfour was no +longer by to be their milk-cow; at which, to my own very great surprise, +the disposition of my mind turned bottom up. I was still angry; I still +hated her; and yet I thought I owed it to myself that she should suffer +nothing.</p> + +<p>This carried me home again at once, where I found the mails drawn out +and ready fastened by the door, and the father and daughter with every mark +upon them of a recent disagreement. Catriona was like a wooden doll; James +More breathed hard, his face was dotted with white spots, and his nose upon +one side. As soon as I came in, the girl looked at him with a steady, +clear, dark look that might very well have been followed by a blow. It was +a hint that was more contemptuous than a command, and I was surprised to +see James More accept it. It was plain he had had a master talking-to; and +I could see there must be more of the devil in the girl than I had guessed, +and more good-humor about the man than I had given him the credit of.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366"></a>[pg +366]</span>He began, at least, calling me Mr. Balfour, and plainly speaking +from a lesson; but he got not very far, for at the first pompous swell of +his voice, Catriona cut in.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you what James More is meaning," said she. "He means we +have come to you, beggar-folk, and have not behaved to you very well, and +we are ashamed of our ingratitude and ill-behaviour. Now we are wanting to +go away and be forgotten; and my father will have guided his gear so ill, +that we cannot even do that unless you will give us some more alms. For +that is what we are, at all events, beggar-folk and sorners."</p> + +<p>"By your leave, Miss Drummond," said I, "I must speak to your father by +myself."</p> + +<p>She went into her own room and shut the door, without a word or a +look.</p> + +<p>"You must excuse her, Mr. Balfour," says James More. "She has no +delicacy."</p> + +<p>"I am not here to discuss that with you," said I, "but to be quit of +you. And to that end I must talk of your position. Now, Mr. Drummond, I +have kept the run of your affairs more closely than you bargained for. I +know you had money of your own when you were borrowing mine. I know you +have had more since you were here in Leyden, though you concealed it even +from your daughter."</p> + +<p>"I bid you beware. I will stand no more baiting," <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367"></a>[pg 367]</span>he +broke out. "I am sick of her and you. What kind of a damned trade is this +to be a parent! I have had expressions used to me----" There he broke off. +"Sir, this is the heart of a soldier and a parent," he went on again, +laying his hand on his bosom, "outraged in both characters--and I bid you +beware."</p> + +<p>"If you would have let me finish," says I, "you would have found I spoke +for your advantage."</p> + +<p>"My dear friend," he cried, "I know I might have relied upon the +generosity of your character."</p> + +<p>"Man! will you let me speak?" said I. "The fact is that I cannot win to +find out if you are rich or poor. But it is my idea that your means, as +they are mysterious in their source, so they are something insufficient in +amount; and I do not choose your daughter to be lacking. If I durst speak +to herself, you may be certain I would never dream of trusting it to you; +because I know you like the back of my hand, and all your blustering talk +is that much wind to me. However, I believe in your way you do still care +something for your daughter after all; and I must just be doing with that +ground of confidence, such as it is."</p> + +<p>Whereupon, I arranged with him that he was to communicate with me, as to +his whereabouts and Catriona's welfare, in consideration of which I was to +serve him a small stipend.</p> + +<p>He heard the business out with a great deal of eagerness; and when it +was done, "My dear fellow, my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" +id="Page_368"></a>[pg 368]</span>dear son," he cried out, "this is more +like yourself than any of it yet! I will serve you with a soldier's +faithfulness----"</p> + +<p>"Let me hear no more of it!" says I. "You have got me to that pitch that +the bare name of soldier rises on my stomach. Our traffic is settled; I am +now going forth and will return in one half-hour, when I expect to find my +chambers purged of you."</p> + +<p>I gave them good measure of time; it was my one fear that I might see +Catriona again, because tears and weakness were ready in my heart, and I +cherished my anger like a piece of dignity. Perhaps an hour went by; the +sun had gone down, a little wisp of a new moon was following it across a +scarlet sunset; already there were stars in the east, and in my chambers, +when at last I entered them, the night lay blue. I lit a taper and reviewed +the rooms; in the first there remained nothing so much as to awake a memory +of those who were gone; but in the second, in a corner of the floor, I +spied a little heap that brought my heart into my mouth. She had left +behind at her departure all that ever she had of me. It was the blow that I +felt sorest, perhaps because it was the last; and I fell upon that pile of +clothing and behaved myself more foolish than I care to tell of.</p> + +<p>Late in the night, in a strict frost, and my teeth chattering, I came +again by some portion of my manhood and considered with myself. The sight +of these <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369"></a>[pg +369]</span>poor frocks and ribbons, and her shifts, and the clocked +stockings, was not to be endured; and if I were to recover any constancy of +mind, I saw I must be rid of them ere the morning. It was my first thought +to have made a fire and burned them; but my disposition has always been +opposed to wastery, for one thing; and for another, to have burned these +things that she had worn so close upon her body, seemed in the nature of a +cruelty. There was a corner cupboard in that chamber; there I determined to +bestow them. The which I did and made it a long business, folding them with +very little skill indeed but the more care; and sometimes dropping them +with my tears. All the heart was gone out of me, I was weary as though I +had run miles, and sore like one beaten; when, as I was folding a kerchief +that she wore often at her neck, I observed there was a corner neatly cut +from it. It was a kerchief of a very pretty hue, on which I had frequently +remarked; and once that she had it on, I remembered telling her (by way of +a banter) that she wore my colours. There came a glow of hope and like a +tide of sweetness in my bosom; and the next moment I was plunged back in a +fresh despair. For there was the corner crumpled in a knot and cast down by +itself in another part of the floor.</p> + +<p>But when I argued with myself, I grew more hopeful. She had cut that +corner off in some childish freak that was manifestly tender; that she had +cast it away <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370"></a>[pg +370]</span>again was little to be wondered at; and I was inclined to dwell +more upon the first than upon the second, and to be more pleased that she +had ever conceived the idea of that keepsake, than concerned because she +had flung it from her in an hour of natural resentment.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371"></a>[pg +371]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXIX'></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>WE MEET IN DUNKIRK</h3> + + +<p>Altogether, then, I was scarce so miserable the next days but what I had +many hopeful and happy snatches; threw myself with a good deal of constancy +upon my studies; and made out to endure the time till Alan should arrive, +or I might hear word of Catriona by the means of James More. I had +altogether three letters in the time of our separation. One was to announce +their arrival in the town of Dunkirk in France, from which place James +shortly after started alone upon a private mission. This was to England and +to see Lord Holderness; and it has always been a bitter thought that my +good money helped to pay the charges of the same. But he has need of a long +spoon who sups with the deil, or James More either. During this absence, +the time was to fall due for another letter; and as the letter was the +condition of his stipend, he had been so careful as prepare it beforehand +and leave it with Catriona to be despatched. The fact of our correspondence +aroused her suspicions, and he was no sooner gone than she had burst the +seal. What I received began accordingly in the writing of James More:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372"></a>[pg +372]</span>"My dear Sir,--Your esteemed favour came to hand duly, and I +have to acknowledge the inclosure according to agreement. It shall be all +faithfully expended on my daughter, who is well, and desires to be +remembered to her dear friend. I find her in rather a melancholy +disposition, but trusts in the mercy of Grod to see her re-established. Our +manner of life is very much alone, but we solace ourselves with the +melancholy tunes of our native mountains, and by walking upon the margin of +the sea that lies next to Scotland. It was better days with me when I lay +with five wounds upon my body on the field of Gladsmuir. I have found +employment here in the <i>haras</i> of a French nobleman, where my +experience is valued. But, my dear Sir, the wages are so exceedingly +unsuitable that I would be ashamed to mention them, which makes your +remittances the more necessary to my daughter's comfort, though I daresay +the sight of old friends would be still better.</p> + +<p>"My dear Sir, "Your affectionate obedient servant,</p> + +<p>"JAMES MACGREGOR DRUMMOND."</p> + +<p>Below it began again in the hand of Catriona:--</p> + +<blockquote> +"Do not be believing him, it is all lies together.<br /> +"C.M.D."<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>Not only did she add this postcript, but I think she must have come near +suppressing the letter; for it came long after date, and was closely +followed by the third. In the time betwixt them, Alan had arrived, and made +another life to me with his merry conversation; I had been presented to his +cousin of the Scots-Dutch, a man that drank more than I could have thought +possible and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373"></a>[pg +373]</span>was not otherwise of interest; I had been entertained to many +jovial dinners and given some myself, all with no great change upon my +sorrow; and we two (by which I mean Alan and myself, and not at all the +cousin) had discussed a good deal the nature of my relations with James +More and his daughter. I was naturally diffident to give particulars; and +this disposition was not anyway lessened by the nature of Alan's commentary +upon those I gave.</p> + +<p>"I cannae make head nor tail of it," he would say, "but it sticks in my +mind ye've made a gowk of yourself. There's few people that has had more +experience than Alan Breck; and I can never call to mind to have heard tell +of a lassie like this one of yours. The way that you tell it, the thing's +fair impossible. Ye must have made a terrible hash of the business, +David."</p> + +<p>"There are whiles that I am of the same mind," said I.</p> + +<p>"The strange thing is that ye seem to have a kind of a fancy for her +too!" said Alan.</p> + +<p>"The biggest kind, Alan," said I, "and I think I'll take it to my grave +with me."</p> + +<p>"Well, ye beat me, whatever!" he would conclude.</p> + +<p>I showed him the letter with Catriona's postcript. "And here again!" he +cried. "Impossible to deny a kind of decency to this Catriona, and sense +forby! As for James More, the man's as boss as a drum; he's <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374"></a>[pg 374]</span>just a +wame and a wheen words; though I'll can never deny that he fought +reasonably well at Gladsmuir, and it's true what he says here about the +five wounds. But the loss of him is that the man's boss."</p> + +<p>"Ye see, Alan," said I, "it goes against the grain with me to leave the +maid in such poor hands."</p> + +<p>"Ye couldnae weel find poorer," he admitted. "But what are ye to do with +it? It's this way about a man and a woman, ye see, Davie: The weemenfolk +have got no kind of reason to them. Either they like the man, and then a' +goes fine; or else they just detest him, and ye may spare your breath--ye +can do naething. There's just the two sets of them--them that would sell +their coats for ye, and them that never look the road ye're on. That's a' +that there is to women; and you seem to be such a gomeral that ye cannae +tell the tane frae the tither."</p> + +<p>"Well, and I'm afraid that's true for me," said I.</p> + +<p>"And yet there's naething easier!" cried Alan. "I could easy learn ye +the science of the thing; but ye seem to me to be born blind, and there's +where the diffeeculty comes in!"</p> + +<p>"And can <i>you</i> no help me?" I asked, "you that's so clever at the +trade?"</p> + +<p>"Ye see, David, I wasnae here," said he. "I'm like a field officer that +has naebody but blind men for scouts and <i>éclaireurs</i>; and what +would he ken? But it sticks in my mind that ye'll have made some kind <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375"></a>[pg 375]</span>of +bauchle; and if I was you, I would have a try at her again."</p> + +<p>"Would ye so, man Alan?" said I.</p> + +<p>"I would e'en't," says he.</p> + +<p>The third letter came to my hand while we were deep in some such talk; +and it will be seen how pat it fell to the occasion. James professed to be +in some concern upon his daughter's health, which I believe was never +better; abounded in kind expressions to myself; and finally proposed that I +should visit them at Dunkirk.</p> + +<p>"You will now be enjoying the society of my old comrade, Mr. Stewart," +he wrote. "Why not accompany him so far in his return to France? I have +something very particular for Mr. Stewart's ear; and, at any rate, I would +be pleased to meet in with an old fellow-soldier and one so mettle as +himself. As for you, my dear sir, my daughter and I would be proud to +receive our benefactor, whom we regard as a brother and a son. The French +nobleman has proved a person of the most filthy avarice of character, and I +have been necessitate to leave the <i>haras</i>. You will find us, in +consequence, a little poorly lodged in the <i>auberge</i> of a man Bazin on +the dunes; but the situation is caller, and I make no doubt but we might +spend some very pleasant days, when Mr. Stewart and I could recall our +services, and you and my daughter divert yourselves in a manner more +befitting your age. I beg at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" +id="Page_376"></a>[pg 376]</span>least that Mr. Stewart would come here; my +business with him opens a very wide door."</p> + +<p>"What does the man want with me?" cried Alan, when he had read. "What he +wants with you is clear enough--it's siller. But what can he want with Alan +Breck?"</p> + +<p>"O, it'll be just an excuse," said I. "He is still after this marriage, +which I wish from my heart that we could bring about. And he asks you +because he thinks I would be less likely to come wanting you."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wish that I kent," says Alan. "Him and me were never onyways +pack; we used to girn at ither like a pair of pipers. 'Something for my +ear,' quo' he! I'll maybe have something for his hinder end, before we're +through with it. Dod, I'm thinking it would be a kind of a divertisement to +gang and see what he'll be after! Forby that I could see your lassie then. +What say ye, Davie? Will ye ride with Alan?"</p> + +<p>You may be sure I was not backward, and Alan's furlough running towards +an end, we set forth presently upon this joint adventure.</p> + +<p>It was near dark of a January day when we rode at last into the town of +Dunkirk. We left our horses at the post, and found a guide to Bazin's Inn, +which lay beyond the walls. Night was quite fallen, so that we were the +last to leave that fortress, and heard the doors of it close behind us as +we passed the bridge. On the other side there lay a lighted suburb, which +we <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377"></a>[pg +377]</span>thridded for a while, then turned into a dark lane, and +presently found ourselves wading in the night among deep sand where we +could hear a bullering of the sea. We travelled in this fashion for some +while, following our conductor mostly by the sound of his voice; and I had +begun to think he was perhaps misleading us, when we came to the top of a +small brae, and there appeared out of the darkness a dim light in a +window.</p> + +<p>"<i>Voilà l'auberge à, Bazin</i>," says the guide.</p> + +<p>Alan smacked his lips. "An unco lonely bit," said he, and I thought by +his tone he was not wholly pleased.</p> + +<p>A little after, and we stood in the lower storey of the house, which was +all in the one apartment, with a stair leading to the chambers at the side, +benches and tables by the wall, the cooking fire at the one end of it, and +shelves of bottles and the cellar-trap at the other. Here Bazin, who was an +ill-looking, big man, told us the Scottish gentleman was gone abroad he +knew not where, but the young lady was above, and he would call her down to +us.</p> + +<p>I took from my breast the kerchief wanting the corner, and knotted it +about my throat. I could hear my heart go; and Alan patting me on the +shoulder with some of his laughable expressions, I could scarce refrain +from a sharp word. But the time was not long to wait. I heard her step pass +overhead, and saw her on the stair. This she descended very quietly, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378"></a>[pg +378]</span>greeted me with a pale face and certain seeming of earnestness, +or uneasiness, in her manner that extremely dashed me.</p> + +<p>"My father, James More, will be here soon. He will be very pleased to +see you," she said. And then of a sudden her face flamed, her eyes +lightened, the speech stopped upon her lips; and I made sure she had +observed the kerchief. It was only for a breath that she was discomposed; +but methought it was with a new animation that she turned to welcome Alan. +"And you will be his friend Alan Breck?" she cried. "Many is the dozen +times I will have heard him tell of you; and I love you already for all +your bravery and goodness."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," says Alan, holding her hand in his and viewing her, "and +so this is the young lady at the last of it! David, you're an awful poor +hand of a description."</p> + +<p>I do not know that ever I heard him speak so straight to people's +hearts; the sound of his voice was like song.</p> + +<p>"What? will he have been describing me?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Little else of it since I ever came out of France!" says he, "forby a +bit of speciment one night in Scotland in a shaw of wood by Silvermills. +But cheer up, my dear! ye're bonnier than what he said. And now there's one +thing sure: you and me are to be a pair of friends. I'm a kind of a +henchman to Davie here; I'm like a tyke at his heels; and whatever he cares +for, I've <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379"></a>[pg +379]</span>got to care for too--and by the holy airn! they've got to care +for me! So now you can see what way you stand with Alan Breck, and ye'll +find ye'll hardly lose on the transaction. He's no very bonnie, my dear, +but he's leal to them he loves."</p> + +<p>"I thank you with my heart for your good words," said she. "I have that +honour for a brave, honest man that I cannot find any to be answering +with."</p> + +<p>Using travellers' freedom, we spared to wait for James More, and sat +down to meat, we threesome. Alan had Catriona sit by him and wait upon his +wants: he made her drink first out of his glass, he surrounded her with +continual kind gallantries, and yet never gave me the most small occasion +to be jealous; and he kept the talk so much in his own hand, and that in so +merry a note, that neither she nor I remembered to be embarrassed. If any +one had seen us there, it must have been supposed that Alan was the old +friend and I the stranger. Indeed, I had often cause to love and to admire +the man, but I never loved or admired him better than that night; and I +could not help remarking to myself (what I was sometimes rather in danger +of forgetting) that he had not only much experience of life, but in his own +way a great deal of natural ability besides. As for Catriona she seemed +quite carried away; her laugh was like a peal of bells, her face gay as a +May morning; and I own, although I was very well pleased, yet I was a +little sad also, and thought myself a dull, stockish character <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380"></a>[pg 380]</span>in +comparison of my friend, and very unfit to come into a young maid's life, +and perhaps ding down her gaiety.</p> + +<p>But if that was like to be my part, I found at least that I was not +alone in it; for, James More returning suddenly, the girl was changed into +a piece of stone. Through the rest of that evening, until she made an +excuse and slipped to bed, I kept an eye upon her without cease: and I can +bear testimony that she never smiled, scarce spoke, and looked mostly on +the board in front of her. So that I really marvelled to see so much +devotion (as it used to be) changed into the very sickness of hate.</p> + +<p>Of James More it is unnecessary to say much; you know the man already, +what there was to know of him; and I am weary of writing out his lies. +Enough that he drank a great deal, and told us very little that was to any +possible purpose. As for the business with Alan, that was to be reserved +for the morrow and his private hearing.</p> + +<p>It was the more easy to be put off, because Alan and I were pretty weary +with our day's ride, and sat not very late after Catriona.</p> + +<p>We were soon alone in a chamber where we were to make shift with a +single bed. Alan looked on me with a queer smile.</p> + +<p>"Ye muckle ass!" said he.</p> + +<p>"What do ye mean by that?" I cried.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381"></a>[pg +381]</span>"Mean? What do I mean? It's extraordinar, David man," says he, +"that you should be so mortal stupit."</p> + +<p>Again I begged him to speak out.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's this of it," said he. "I told ye there were the two kinds of +women--them that would sell their shifts for ye, and the others. Just you +try for yoursel', my bonny man I But what's that neepkin at your +craig?"</p> + +<p>I told him.</p> + +<p>"I thocht it was something there about," said he.</p> + +<p>Nor would he say another word though I besieged him long with +importunities.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382"></a>[pg +382]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CHAPTER_XXX'></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>THE LETTER FROM THE SHIP</h3> + + +<p>Daylight showed us how solitary the inn stood. It was plainly hard upon +the sea, yet out of all view of it, and beset on every side with scabbit +hills of sand. There was, indeed, only one thing in the nature of a +prospect, where there stood out over a brae the two sails of a windmill, +like an ass's ears, but with the ass quite hidden. It was strange (after +the wind rose, for at first it was dead calm) to see the turning and +following of each other of these great sails behind the hillock. Scarce any +road came by there; but a number of footways travelled among the bents in +all directions up to Mr. Bazin's door. The truth is, he was a man of many +trades, not any one of them honest, and the position of his inn was the +best of his livelihood. Smugglers frequented it; political agents and +forfeited persons bound across the water came there to await their +passages; and I daresay there was worse behind, for a whole family might +have been butchered in that house and nobody the wiser.</p> + +<p>I slept little and ill. Long ere it was day, I had slipped from beside +my bedfellow, and was warming myself at the fire or walking to and fro +before the door. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" +id="Page_383"></a>[pg 383]</span>Dawn broke mighty sullen; but a little +after, sprang up a wind out of the west, which burst the clouds, let +through the sun, and set the mill to the turning. There was something of +spring in the sunshine, or else it was in my heart; and the appearing of +the great sails one after another from behind the hill, diverted me +extremely. At times I could hear a creak of the machinery; and by half-past +eight of the day, Catriona began to sing in the house. At this I would have +cast my hat in the air; and I thought this dreary, desert place was like a +paradise.</p> + +<p>For all which, as the day drew on and nobody came near, I began to be +aware of an uneasiness that I could scarce explain. It seemed there was +trouble afoot; the sails of the windmill, as they came up and went down +over the hill, were like persons spying; and outside of all fancy, it was +surely a strange neighbourhood and house for a young lady to be brought to +dwell in.</p> + +<p>At breakfast, which we took late, it was manifest that James More was in +some danger or perplexity; manifest that Alan was alive to the same, and +watched him close; and this appearance of duplicity upon the one side and +vigilance upon the other, held me on live coals. The meal was no sooner +over than James seemed to come to a resolve, and began to make apologies. +He had an appointment of a private nature in the town (it was with the +French nobleman, he told me) and we would please excuse him till about +noon. Meanwhile, he carried <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" +id="Page_384"></a>[pg 384]</span>his daughter aside to the far end of the +room, where he seemed to speak rather earnestly and she to listen without +much inclination.</p> + +<p>"I am caring less and less about this man James," said Alan. "There's +something no right with the man James, and I wouldnae wonder but what Alan +Breck would give an eye to him this day. I would like fine to see yon +French nobleman, Davie; and I daresay you could find an employ to yoursel, +and that would be to speer at the lassie for some news of your affair. Just +tell it to her plainly--tell her ye're a muckle ass at the off-set; and +then, if I were you, and ye could do it naitural, I would just mint to her +I was in some kind of a danger; a' weemenfolk likes that."</p> + +<p>"I cannae lee, Alan, I cannae do it naitural," says I, mocking him.</p> + +<p>"The more fool you!" says he. "Then ye'll can tell her that I +recommended it; that'll set her to the laughing; and I wouldnae wonder but +what that was the next best. But see to the pair of them! If I didnae feel +just sure of the lassie, and that she was awful pleased and chief with +Alan, I would think there was some kind of hocus-pocus about yon."</p> + +<p>"And is she so pleased with ye, then, Alan?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"She thinks a heap of me," says he. "And I'm no like you: I'm one that +can tell. That she does--she thinks a heap of Alan. And troth! I'm thinking +a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385"></a>[pg +385]</span>good deal of him mysel; and with your permission, Shaws, I'll be +getting a wee yont amang the bents, so that I can see what way James +goes."</p> + +<p>One after another went, till I was left alone beside the breakfast +table; James to Dunkirk, Alan dogging him, Catriona up the stairs to her +own chamber. I could very well understand how she should avoid to be alone +with me; yet was none the better pleased with it for that, and bent my mind +to entrap her to an interview before the men returned. Upon the whole, the +best appeared to me to do like Alan. If I was out of view among the sand +hills, the fine morning would decoy her out; and once I had her in the +open, I could please myself.</p> + +<p>No sooner said than done; nor was I long under the bield of a hillock +before she appeared at the inn door, looked here and there, and (seeing +nobody) set out by a path that led directly seaward, and by which I +followed her. I was in no haste to make my presence known; the further she +went I made sure of the longer hearing to my suit; and the ground being all +sandy, it was easy to follow her unheard. The path rose and came at last to +the head of a knowe. Thence I had a picture for the first time of what a +desolate wilderness that inn stood hidden in; where was no man to be seen, +nor any house of man, except just Bazin's and the windmill. Only a little +further on, the sea appeared and two or three ships upon it, pretty as a +drawing. One of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" +id="Page_386"></a>[pg 386]</span>these was extremely close in to be so +great a vessel; and I was aware of a shock of new suspicion, when I +recognized the trim of the <i>Seahorse</i>. What should an English ship be +doing so near in France? Why was Alan brought into her neighbourhood, and +that in a place so far from any hope of rescue? and was it by accident, or +by design, that the daughter of James More should walk that day to the +seaside?</p> + +<p>Presently I came forth behind her in the front of the sand hills and +above the beach. It was here long and solitary; with a man-o'-war's boat +drawn up about the middle of the prospect, and an officer in charge and +pacing the sands like one who waited. I sat immediately down where the +rough grass a good deal covered me, and looked for what should follow. +Catriona went straight to the boat; the officer met her with civilities; +they had ten words together; I saw a letter changing hands; and there was +Catriona returning. At the same time, as if this was all her business on +the Continent, the boat shoved off and was headed for the <i>Seahorse</i>. +But I observed the officer to remain behind and disappear among the +bents.</p> + +<p>I liked the business little; and the more I considered of it, liked it +less. Was it Alan the officer was seeking? or Catriona? She drew near with +her head down, looking constantly on the sand, and made so tender a picture +that I could not bear to doubt her innocency. The next, she raised her face +and recognised me; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" +id="Page_387"></a>[pg 387]</span>seemed to hesitate, and then came on +again, but more slowly, and I thought with a changed colour. And at that +thought, all else that was upon my bosom--fears, suspicions, the care of my +friend's life--was clean swallowed up; and I rose to my feet and stood +waiting her in a drunkenness of hope.</p> + +<p>I gave her "good-morning" as she came up, which she returned with a good +deal of composure.</p> + +<p>"Will you forgive my having followed you?" said I.</p> + +<p>"I know you are always meaning kindly," she replied; and then, with a +little outburst, "But why will you be sending money to that man? It must +not be."</p> + +<p>"I never sent it for him," said I, "but for you, as you know well."</p> + +<p>"And you have no right to be sending it to either one of us," said she. +"David, it is not right."</p> + +<p>"It is not, it is all wrong," said I; "and I pray God he will help this +dull fellow (if it be at all possible), to make it better. Catriona, this +is no kind of life for you to lead, and I ask your pardon for the word, but +yon man is no fit father to take care of you."</p> + +<p>"Do not be speaking of him, even!" was her cry.</p> + +<p>"And I need speak of him no more, it is not of him that I am thinking, +O, be sure of that!" says I. "I think of the one thing. I have been alone +now this long time in Leyden; and when I was by way of at my studies, still +I was thinking of that. Next Alan came, and I went among soldier-men to +their big dinners; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" +id="Page_388"></a>[pg 388]</span>and still I had the same thought. And it +was the same before, when I had her there beside me. Catriona, do you see +this napkin at my throat? You cut a corner from it once and then cast it +from you. They're <i>your</i> colours now; I wear them in my heart. My +dear, I cannot want you. O, try to put up with me!"</p> + +<p>I stepped before her so as to intercept her walking on.</p> + +<p>"Try to put up with me," I was saying, "try and bear me with a +little."</p> + +<p>Still she had never the word, and a fear began to rise in me like a fear +of death.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," I cried, gazing on her hard, "is it a mistake again? Am I +quite lost?"</p> + +<p>She raised her face to me, breathless.</p> + +<p>"Do you want me, Davie, truly?" said she, and I scarce could hear her +say it.</p> + +<p>"I do that," said I. "O, sure you know it--I do that."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing left to give or to keep back," said she. "I was all +yours from the first day, if you would have had a gift of me!" she +said.</p> + +<p>This was on the summit of a brae; the place was windy and conspicuous, +we were to be seen there even from the English ship; but I kneeled down +before her in the sand, and embraced her knees, and burst into that storm +of weeping that I thought it must have broken me. All thought was wholly +beaten from my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" +id="Page_389"></a>[pg 389]</span>mind by the vehemency of my discomposure. +I knew not where I was, I had forgot why I was happy; only I knew she +stooped, and I felt her cherish me to her face and bosom, and heard her +words out of a whirl.</p> + +<p>"Davie," she was saying, "O, Davie, is this what you think of me? Is it +so that you were caring for poor me? O, Davie, Davie!"</p> + +<p>With that she wept also, and our tears were commingled in a perfect +gladness.</p> + +<p>It might have been ten in the day before I came to a clear sense of what +a mercy had befallen me; and sitting over against her, with her hands in +mine, gazed in her face, and laughed out loud for pleasure like a child, +and called her foolish and kind names. I have never seen the place look so +pretty as these bents by Dunkirk; and the windmill sails, as they bobbed +over the knowe, were like a tune of music.</p> + +<p>I know not how much longer we might have continued to forget all else +besides ourselves, had I not chanced upon a reference to her father, which +brought us to reality.</p> + +<p>"My little friend," I was calling her again and again, rejoicing to +summon up the past by the sound of it, and to gaze across on her, and to be +a little distant--"My little friend, now you are mine altogether; mine for +good, my little friend; and that man's no longer at all."</p> + +<p>There came a sudden whiteness in her face, she plucked her hands from +mine.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390"></a>[pg +390]</span>"Davie, take me away from him!" she cried. "There's something +wrong; he's not true. There will be something wrong; I have a dreadful +terror here at my heart. What will he be wanting at all events with that +King's ship? What will this word be saying?" And she held the letter forth. +"My mind misgives me, it will be some ill to Alan. Open it, Davie--open it +and see."</p> + +<p>I took it, and looked at it, and shook my head.</p> + +<p>"No," said I, "it goes against me, I cannot open a man's letter."</p> + +<p>"Not to save your friend?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I cannae tell," said I. "I think not. If I was only sure!"</p> + +<p>"And you have but to break the seal!" said she.</p> + +<p>"I know it," said I, "but the thing goes against me."</p> + +<p>"Give it here," said she, "and I will open it myself."</p> + +<p>"Nor you neither," said I. "You least of all. It concerns your father, +and his honour, dear, which we are both misdoubting. No question but the +place is dangerous-like, and the English ship being here, and your father +having word of it, and yon officer that stayed ashore! He would not be +alone either; there must be more along with him; I daresay we are spied +upon this minute. Ay, no doubt, the letter should be opened; but somehow, +not by you nor me."</p> + +<p>I was about this far with it, and my spirit very much overcome with a +sense of danger and hidden enemies, <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_391" id="Page_391"></a>[pg 391]</span>when I spied Alan, come +back again from following James and walking by himself among the sand +hills. He was in his soldier's coat, of course, and mighty fine; but I +could not avoid to shudder when I thought how little that jacket would +avail him, if he were once caught and flung in a skiff, and carried on +board of the <i>Seahorse</i>, a deserter, a rebel, and now a condemned +murderer.</p> + +<p>"There," said I, "there is the man that has the best right to open it: +or not, as he thinks fit."</p> + +<p>With which I called upon his name, and we both stood up to be a mark for +him.</p> + +<p>"If it is so--if it be more disgrace--will you can bear it?" she asked, +looking upon me with a burning eye.</p> + +<p>"I was asked something of the same question when I had seen you but the +once," said I. "What do you think I answered? That if I liked you as I +thought I did--and O, but I like you better!--I would marry you at his +gallows' foot."</p> + +<p>The blood rose in her face; she came close up and pressed upon me, +holding my hand: and it was so that we awaited Alan.</p> + +<p>He came with one of his queer smiles. "What was I telling ye, David?" +says he.</p> + +<p>"There is a time for all things, Alan," said I, "and this time is +serious. How have you sped? You can speak out plain before this friend of +ours."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392"></a>[pg +392]</span>"I have been upon a fool's errand," said he.</p> + +<p>"I doubt we have done better than you, then," said I; "and, at least, +here is a great deal of matter that you must judge of. Do you see that?" I +went on, pointing to the ship. "That is the <i>Seahorse</i>, Captain +Palliser."</p> + +<p>"I should ken her, too," says Alan. "I had fyke enough with her when she +was stationed in the Forth. But what ails the man to come so close?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you why he came there first," said I. "It was to bring this +letter to James More. Why he stops here now that it's delivered, what it's +likely to be about, why there's an officer hiding in the bents, and whether +or not it's probable that he's alone--I would rather you considered for +yourself."</p> + +<p>"A letter to James More?" said he.</p> + +<p>"The same," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, and I can tell ye more than that," said Alan. "For last night +when you were fast asleep, I heard the man colloquing with some one in the +French, and then the door of that inn to be opened and shut."</p> + +<p>"Alan!" cried I, "you slept all night, and I am here to prove it."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but I would never trust Alan whether he was asleep or waking!" says +he. "But the business looks bad. Let's see the letter."</p> + +<p>I gave it him.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," said he, "ye'll have to excuse me, my <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393"></a>[pg 393]</span>dear; +but there's nothing less than my fine bones upon the cast of it, and I'll +have to break this seal."</p> + +<p>"It is my wish," said Catriona.</p> + +<p>He opened it, glanced it through, and flung his hand in the air.</p> + +<p>"The stinking brock!" says he, and crammed the paper in his pocket. +"Here, let's get our things thegether. This place is fair death to me." And +he began to walk towards the inn.</p> + +<p>It was Catriona who spoke the first. "He has sold you?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Sold me, my dear," said Alan. "But thanks to you and Davie, I'll can +jink him yet. Just let me win upon my horse!" he added.</p> + +<p>"Catriona must come with us," said I. "She can have no more traffic with +that man. She and I are to be married." At which she pressed my hand to her +side.</p> + +<p>"Are ye there with it?" says Alan, looking back. "The best day's work +that ever either of ye did yet I And I'm bound to say, my dawtie, ye make a +real, bonny couple."</p> + +<p>The way that he was following brought us close in by the windmill, where +I was aware of a man in seaman's trousers, who seemed to be spying from +behind it. Only, of course, we took him in the rear.</p> + +<p>"See, Alan!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Wheesht!" said he, "this is my affairs."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394"></a>[pg +394]</span>The man was, no doubt, a little deafened by the clattering of +the mill, and we got up close before he noticed. Then he turned, and we saw +he was a big fellow with a mahogany face.</p> + +<p>"I think, sir," says Alan, "that you speak the English?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Non, monsieur</i>," says he, with an incredible bad accent.</p> + +<p>"<i>Non, monsieur</i>," cries Alan, mocking him. "Is that how they learn +you French on the <i>Seahorse?</i> Ye muckle, gutsey hash, here's a Scots +boot to your English hurdies!"</p> + +<p>And bounding on him before he could escape, he dealt the man a kick that +laid him on his nose. Then he stood, with a savage smile, and watched him +scramble to his feet and scamper off into the sand hills.</p> + +<p>"But it's high time I was clear of these empty bents!" said Alan; and +continued his way at top speed and we still following, to the back door of +Bazin's inn.</p> + +<p>It chanced that as we entered by the one door we came face to face with +James More entering by the other.</p> + +<p>"Here!" said I to Catriona, "quick! upstairs with you and make your +packets; this is no fit scene for you."</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile James and Alan had met in the midst of the long room. +She passed them close by to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" +id="Page_395"></a>[pg 395]</span>reach the stairs; and after she was some +way up I saw her turn and glance at them again, though without pausing. +Indeed, they were worth looking at. Alan wore as they met one of his best +appearances of courtesy and friendliness, yet with something eminently +warlike, so that James smelled danger off the man, as folk smell fire in a +house, and stood prepared for accidents.</p> + +<p>Time pressed. Alan's situation in that solitary place, and his enemies +about him, might have daunted Cæsar. It made no change in him; and it +was in his old spirit of mockery and daffing that he began the +interview.</p> + +<p>"A braw good day to ye again, Mr. Drummond," said he. "What'll yon +business of yours be just about?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the thing being private, and rather of a long story," says James, +"I think it will keep very well till we have eaten."</p> + +<p>"I'm none so sure of that," said Alan. "It sticks in my mind it's either +now or never; for the fact is me and Mr. Balfour here have gotten a line, +and we're thinking of the road."</p> + +<p>I saw a little surprise in James's eye; but he held himself stoutly.</p> + +<p>"I have but the one word to say to cure you of that," said he, "and that +is the name of my business."</p> + +<p>"Say it then," says Alan. "Hout! wha minds for Davie?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396"></a>[pg +396]</span>"It is a matter that would make us both rich men," said +James.</p> + +<p>"Do ye tell me that?" cries Alan.</p> + +<p>"I do, sir," said James. "The plain fact is that it is Cluny's +Treasure."</p> + +<p>"No!" cried Alan. "Have ye got word of it?"</p> + +<p>"I ken the place, Mr. Stewart, and can take you there," said James.</p> + +<p>"This crowns all!" says Alan. "Well, and I'm glad I came to Dunkirk. And +so this was your business, was it? Halvers, I'm thinking?"</p> + +<p>"That is the business, sir," says James.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," says Alan; and then in the same tone of childlike +interest, "It has naething to do with the <i>Seahorse</i>, then?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"With what?" says James.</p> + +<p>"Or the lad that I have just kicked the bottom of behind yon windmill?" +pursued Alan. "Hut, man! have done with your lees! I have Palliser's letter +here in my pouch. You're by with it, James More. You can never show your +face again with dacent folk."</p> + +<p>James was taken all aback with it. He stood a second, motionless and +white, then swelled with the living anger.</p> + +<p>"Do you talk to me, you bastard?" he roared out.</p> + +<p>"Ye glee'd swine!" cried Alan, and hit him a sounding buffet on the +mouth, and the next wink of time their blades clashed together.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397"></a>[pg +397]</span>At the first sound of the bare steel I instinctively leaped back +from the collision. The next I saw, James parried a thrust so nearly that I +thought him killed; and it lowed up in my mind that this was the girl's +father, and in a manner almost my own, and I drew and ran in to sever +them.</p> + +<p>"Keep back, Davie! Are ye daft? Damn ye, keep back!" roared Alan. "Your +blood be on your ain heid then!"</p> + +<p>I beat their blades down twice. I was knocked reeling against the wall; +I was back again betwixt them. They took no heed of me, thrusting at each +other like two furies. I can never think how I avoided being stabbed myself +or stabbing one of these two Rodomonts, and the whole business turned about +me like a piece of a dream; in the midst of which I heard a great cry from +the stair, and Catriona sprang before her father. In the same moment the +point of my sword encountered something yielding. It came back to me +reddened. I saw the blood flow on the girl's kerchief, and stood sick.</p> + +<p>"Will you be killing him before my eyes, and me his daughter after all?" +she cried.</p> + +<p>"My dear, I have done with him," said Alan, and went and sat on a table, +with his arms crossed and the sword naked in his hand.</p> + +<p>Awhile she stood before the man, panting, with big eyes, then swung +suddenly about and faced him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398"></a>[pg +398]</span>"Begone!" was her word, "take your shame out of my sight; leave +me with clean folk. I am a daughter of Alpin! Shame of the sons of Alpin, +begone!"</p> + +<p>It was said with so much passion as awoke me from the horror of my own +bloodied sword. The two stood facing, she with the red stain on her +kerchief, he white as a rag. I knew him well enough--I knew it must have +pierced him in the quick place of his soul; but he betook himself to a +bravado air.</p> + +<p>"Why," says he, sheathing his sword, though still with a bright eye on +Alan, "if this brawl is over I will but get my portmanteau---"</p> + +<p>"There goes no pockmantie out of this place except with me," says +Alan.</p> + +<p>"Sir!" cries James.</p> + +<p>"James More," says Alan, "this lady daughter of yours is to marry my +friend Davie, upon the which account I let you pack with a hale carcase. +But take you my advice of it and get that carcase out of harm's way or ower +late. Little as you suppose it, there are leemits to my temper."</p> + +<p>"Be damned, sir, but my money's there!" said James.</p> + +<p>"I'm vexed about that, too," says Alan, with his funny face, "but now, +ye see, it's mines." And then with more gravity, "Be you advised, James +More, you leave this house."</p> + + + +<a name="balfour009"></a> +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<a href="images/balfour009.jpg"><img alt="Illustration: KEEP BACK, DAVIE! ARE YE DAFT?" +src="images/balfour009sm.jpg" height="557" width="383" /></a> +<br />KEEP BACK, DAVIE! ARE YE DAFT? + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<p>James seemed to cast about for a moment in his <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_399" id="Page_399"></a>[pg 399]</span>mind; but it's to be +thought he had enough of Alan's swordsmanship, for he suddenly put off his +hat to us and (with a face like one of the damned) bade us farewell in a +series. With which he was gone.</p> + +<p>At the same time a spell was lifted from me.</p> + +<p>"Catriona," I cried, "it was me--it was my sword. O, are ye much +hurt?"</p> + +<p>"I know it, Davie, I am loving you for the pain of it; it was done +defending that bad man, my father. See!" she said, and showed me a bleeding +scratch, "see, you have made a man of me now. I will carry a wound like an +old soldier."</p> + +<p>Joy that she should be so little hurt, and the love of her brave nature, +transported me. I embraced her, I kissed the wound.</p> + +<p>"And am I to be out of the kissing, me that never lost a chance?" says +Alan; and putting me aside and taking Catriona by either shoulder, "My +dear," he said, "you're a true daughter of Alpin. By all accounts, he was a +very fine man, and he may weel be proud of you. If ever I was to get +married, it's the marrow of you I would be seeking for a mother to my sons. +And I bear a king's name and speak the truth."</p> + +<p>He said it with a serious heat of admiration that was honey to the girl, +and through her, to me. It seemed to wipe us clean of all James More's +disgraces. And the next moment he was just himself again.</p> + +<p>"And now by your leave, my dawties," said he, <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_400" id="Page_400"></a>[pg 400]</span>"this is a' very bonny; +but Alan Breck'll be a wee thing nearer to the gallows than he's caring +for; and Dod! I think this is a grand place to be leaving."</p> + +<p>The word recalled us to some wisdom. Alan ran upstairs and returned with +our saddle-bags and James More's portmanteau; I picked up Catriona's bundle +where she had dropped it on the stair; and we were setting forth out of +that dangerous house, when Bazin stopped the way with cries and +gesticulations. He had whipped under a table when the swords were drawn, +but now he was as bold as a lion. There was his bill to be settled, there +was a chair broken, Alan had sat among his dinner things, James More had +fled.</p> + +<p>"Here," I cried, "pay yourself," and flung him down some Lewie d'ors; +for I thought it was no time to be accounting.</p> + +<p>He sprang upon that money, and we passed him by, and ran forth into the +open. Upon three sides of the house were seamen hasting and closing in; a +little nearer to us James More waved his hat as if to hurry them; and right +behind him, like some foolish person holding up its hands, were the sails +of the windmill turning.</p> + +<p>Alan gave but the one glance, and laid himself down to run. He carried a +great weight in James More's portmanteau; but I think he would as soon have +lost his life as cast away that booty which was his revenge; and he ran so +that I was distressed to follow him, and <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_401" id="Page_401"></a>[pg 401]</span>marvelled and exulted to +see the girl bounding at my side.</p> + +<p>As soon as we appeared, they cast off all disguise upon the other side; +and the seamen pursued us with shouts and view-hullohs. We had a start of +some two hundred yards, and they were but bandy-legged tarpaulins after +all, that could not hope to better us at such an exercise. I suppose they +were armed, but did not care to use their pistols on French ground. And as +soon as I perceived that we not only held our advantage but drew a little +away, I began to feel quite easy of the issue. For all which, it was a hot, +brisk bit of work, so long as it lasted; Dunkirk was still far off; and +when we popped over a knowe, and found a company of the garrison marching +on the other side on some manoeuvre, I could very well understand the word +that Alan had.</p> + +<p>He stopped running at once; and mopping at his brow, "They're a real +bonny folk, the French nation," says he.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402"></a>[pg +402]</span><hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name='CONCLUSION'></a>CONCLUSION</h2> + + +<p>No sooner were we safe within the walls of Dunkirk than we held a very +necessary council-of-war on our position. We had taken a daughter from her +father at the sword's point; any judge would give her back to him at once, +and by all likelihood clap me and Alan into jail; and though we had an +argument upon our side in Captain Palisser's letter, neither Catriona nor I +were very keen to be using it in public. Upon all accounts it seemed the +most prudent to carry the girl to Paris to the hands of her own chieftain, +Macgregor of Bohaldie, who would be very willing to help his kinswoman, on +the one hand, and not at all anxious to dishonour James upon the other.</p> + +<p>We made but a slow journey of it up, for Catriona was not so good at the +riding as the running, and had scarce sat in a saddle since the +'Forty-five. But we made it out at last, reached Paris early of a Sabbath +morning, and made all speed, under Alan's guidance, to find Bohaldie. He +was finely lodged, and lived in a good style, having a pension in the Scots +Fund, as well as private means; greeted Catriona like one of his own house, +and seemed altogether very civil and discreet, <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_403" id="Page_403"></a>[pg 403]</span>but not particularly open. +We asked of the news of James More. "Poor James!" said he, and shook his +head and smiled, so that I thought he knew further than he meant to tell. +Then we showed him Palisser's letter, and he drew a long face at that.</p> + +<p>"Poor James!" said he again. "Well, there are worse folk than James +More, too. But this is dreadful bad. Tut, tut, he must have forgot himself +entirely! This is a most undesirable letter. But, for all that, gentlemen, +I cannot see what we would want to make it public for. It's an ill bird +that fouls his own nest, and we are all Scots folk and all Hieland."</p> + +<p>Upon this we were all agreed, save perhaps Alan; and still more upon the +question of our marriage, which Bohaldie took in his own hands, as though +there had been no such person as James More, and gave Catriona away with +very pretty manners and agreeable compliments in French. It was not till +all was over, and our healths drunk, that he told us James was in that +city, whither he had preceded us some days, and where he now lay sick, and +like to die. I thought I saw by my wife's face what way her inclination +pointed.</p> + +<p>"And let us go see him, then," said I.</p> + +<p>"If it is your pleasure," said Catriona. These were early days.</p> + +<p>He was lodged in the same quarter of the city with his chief, in a great +house upon a corner; and we were guided up to the garret where he lay by +the sound of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404"></a>[pg +404]</span>Highland piping. It seemed he had just borrowed a set of them +from Bohaldie to amuse his sickness; though he was no such hand as was his +brother Rob, he made good music of the kind; and it was strange to observe +the French folk crowding on the stairs, and some of them laughing. He lay +propped in a pallet. The first look of him I saw he was upon his last +business; and, doubtless, this was a strange place for him to die in. But +even now I find I can scarce dwell upon his end with patience. Doubtless, +Bohaldie had prepared him; he seemed to know we were married, complimented +us on the event, and gave us a benediction like a patriarch.</p> + +<p>"I have been never understood," said he. "I forgive you both without an +after-thought;" after which he spoke for all the world in his old manner, +was so obliging as to play us a tune or two upon his pipes, and borrowed a +small sum before I left. I could not trace even a hint of shame in any part +of his behaviour; but he was great upon forgiveness; it seemed always fresh +to him. I think he forgave me every time we met; and when after some four +days he passed away in a kind of odour of affectionate sanctity, I could +have torn my hair out for exasperation. I had him buried; but what to put +upon his tomb was quite beyond me, till at last I considered the date would +look best alone.</p> + +<p>I thought it wiser to resign all thoughts of Leyden, <span +class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405"></a>[pg 405]</span>where +we had appeared once as brother and sister, and it would certainly look +strange to return in a new character. Scotland would be doing for us; and +thither, after I had recovered that which I had left behind, we sailed in a +Low Country ship.</p> + +<p>And now, Miss Barbara Balfour (to set the ladies first) and Mr. Alan +Balfour, younger of Shaws, here is the story brought fairly to an end. A +great many of the folk that took a part in it, you will find (if you think +well) that you have seen and spoken with. Alison Hastie in Limekilns was +the lass that rocked your cradle when you were too small to know of it, and +walked abroad with you in the policy when you were bigger. That very fine +great lady that is Miss Barbara's name-mamma is no other than the same Miss +Grant that made so much a fool of David Balfour in the house of the Lord +Advocate. And I wonder whether you remember a little, lean, lively +gentleman in a scratchwig and a wraprascal, that came to Shaws very late of +a dark night, and whom you were awakened out of your beds and brought down +to the dining-hall to be presented to, by the name of Mr. Jamieson? Or has +Alan forgotten what he did at Mr. Jamieson's request--a most disloyal +act--for which, by the letter of the law, he might be hanged--no less than +drinking the king's health <i>across the water</i>? These were strange +doings in a good Whig house! But Mr. Jamieson is a man privileged, and +might set fire to my corn-barn; and the <span class="pagenum"><a +name="Page_406" id="Page_406"></a>[pg 406]</span>name they know him by now +in France is the Chevalier Stewart.</p> + +<p>As for Davie and Catriona, I shall watch you pretty close in the next +days, and see if you are so bold as to be laughing at papa and mamma. It is +true we were not so wise as we might have been, and made a great deal of +sorrow out of nothing; but you will find as you grow up that even the +artful Miss Barbara, and even the valiant Mr. Alan will be not so very much +wiser than their parents. For the life of man upon this world of ours is a +funny business. They talk of the angels weeping; but I think they must more +often be holding their sides, as they look on; and there was one thing I +determined to do when I began this long story, and that was to tell out +everything as it befell.</p> + + + + + + + + +<p><a href="#rfn1" name="fn1">1.</a> Conspicuous.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn2" name="fn2">2.</a> Country.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn3" name="fn3">3.</a> The Fairies.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn4" name="fn4">4.</a> Flatteries.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn5" name="fn5">5.</a> Trust to.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn6" name="fn6">6.</a> This must have reference to Dr. +Cameron on his first visit.--D.B.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn7" name="fn7">7.</a> Sweethearts.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn8" name="fn8">8.</a> Child.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn9" name="fn9">9.</a> Palm.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn10" name="fn10">10.</a> Gallows.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn11" name="fn11">11.</a> My Catechism.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn12" name="fn12">12.</a> Now Prince's Street.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn13" name="fn13">13.</a> A learned folklorist of my +acquaintance hereby identifies Alan's air. It has been printed (it seems) +in Campbell's <i>Tales of the West Highlands</i>, Vol. II., p. 91. Upon +examination it would really seem as if Miss Grant's unrhymed doggrel (see +chapter V.) would fit with a little humouring to the notes in question.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn14" name="fn14">14.</a> A ball placed upon a little mound +for convenience of striking.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn15" name="fn15">15.</a> Patched shoes.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn16" name="fn16">16.</a> Shoemaker.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn17" name="fn17">17.</a> Tamson's mare, to go afoot.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn18" name="fn18">18.</a> Beard.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn19" name="fn19">19.</a> Ragged.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn20" name="fn20">20.</a> Fine things.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn21" name="fn21">21.</a> Catch.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn22" name="fn22">22.</a> Victuals.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn23" name="fn23">23.</a> Trust.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn24" name="fn24">24.</a> Sea fog.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn25" name="fn25">25.</a> Bashful.</p> + +<p><a href="#rfn26" name="fn26">26.</a> Rest.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14133 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + |