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diff --git a/37336-h/37336-h.htm b/37336-h/37336-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..937a034 --- /dev/null +++ b/37336-h/37336-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10536 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of + of Scotland, Revised by Alexander Leighton. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of +Scotland Volume 21, by Alexander Leighton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume 21 + +Author: Alexander Leighton + +Release Date: September 8, 2011 [EBook #37336] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILSON'S TALES OF THE *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Katie Hernandez and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + + +<h1>Wilson's Tales of the Borders</h1> +<h3>AND OF SCOTLAND.</h3> + + +<h3>HISTORICAL, TRADITIONARY, & IMAGINATIVE.</h3> + +<p class="center">WITH A GLOSSARY.</p> + +<h3>REVISED BY +ALEXANDER LEIGHTON,</h3> +<br /> +<p class="center"><i>One of the Original Editors and Contributors.</i></p> + +<p class="center">VOL. XXI.<br /> +LONDON: +WALTER SCOTT, 14 PATERNOSTER SQUARE, +AND NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE.</p> + +<p class="center">1884.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<h1>CONTENTS.</h1> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Burgher's Tales,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The House in Bell's Wynd,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Alexander Leighton</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Prodigal Son</span>,</td><td align="left">(<i>John Mackay Wilson</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Lawyer's Tales,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Woman with the White Mice</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Alexander Leighton</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Gleanings of the Covenant,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Early Days of a Friend of the Covenant,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Prof. Thos. Gillespie</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Detective's Tale,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Chance Question,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Alexander Leighton</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Merchant's Daughter,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Alexander Campbell</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Bride of Bell's Tower,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Alexander Leighton</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Doctor Dobbie,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Alexander Campbell</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Seeker,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>John Mackay Wilson</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Surgeon's Tales,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The wager,</span></td><td align="left">(<i>Alexander Leighton</i>)—</td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WILSONS" id="WILSONS"></a>WILSON'S TALES OF THE BORDERS, AND OF SCOTLAND.</h2> + +<h4>THE BURGHER'S TALES.</h4> +<h4>THE HOUSE IN BELL'S WYND.</h4> + + +<p>Some reference has been made by Mr. Chambers, in his +<i>Traditions of Edinburgh</i>, to a story which looks very like +fiction, but the foundation of which, I dare to say, is +the following, derived at most third-hand, from George +Gourlay, a blacksmith, whose shop was in the Luckenbooths, +his dwelling-house in Bell's Wynd, and who +was himself an actor in the drama.</p> + +<p>It is not saying much for the topography of an +Edinburgh wynd, to tell that it contained a flat such as +that occupied by this blacksmith; but he who would +describe one of these peculiar features of the Old Town, +would be qualified to come after him who gave a graphic +account of the Dĉdalian Labyrinth, or pictured +Menander. Such a wynd has been likened to the +vestibule to a certain place, more hot than cozy—at +another time, to two long tiers of catacombs with living +mummies piled row over row; but, resigning such +extravagances, we may be within the bounds of moderation, +and not beyond the attributes of fair similitude, +when we say that one of these wynds is like a perpendicular +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>town where the long, narrow, dark streets, in +place of extending themselves, as they ought, on the +earth's surface, proceed upwards to the sky. And +which sky is scarcely visible—not that, if the perpendicular +line were maintained, the empyrean would be so +very much obscured, but that the inhabitants, in proportion +as they rise away from mother earth and +society, make amends by jutting out their dwellings in +the form of Dutch gables, so as to be able to converse +with their neighbours opposite on the affairs of the +world below—that world above, to which they are +so much nearer, being despised, on the principle of +familiarity producing contempt. Then the sky-line +would so much delight a Gothic architect, composed as +it is of a long multiplicity on either side of pointed +gables, lum-tops venting reek and smoke, dried women's +heads venting something of the same kind. Next, the +dark boles of openings to these perpendicular passages—so +like entries to coal cellars,—yet where myriads +of human beings pass and repass up to and down +from these skyward streets, which have no name; +being the only streets in the wide world without a +nomenclature.</p> + +<p>We picture the said George Gourlay and his wife, of +an evening, at the time of the history of Bell's Wynd, +and other such wynds, when a change was taking place +among the masses there. The New Town was beginning +to hold out its aristocratic attractions to the grandees +and wealthy merchants, who had chosen to live so long +in so pent-up a place. Ay, many had left years before, +or were leaving their lairs to be occupied by those who +never thought they would live in houses with armorial +bearings over the door. So it was that flats were shut +up, and little wonder was created by the circumstance +of windows being closed by inside shutters for years. +The explanation simply was, that the good old family<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +would come back to its old <i>lares</i>, or that no tenant +could be got for the empty house. And then, of course, +the furniture had flitted to the palaces beyond the North +Loch; and what interest could there be in an empty +house with the bare walls overhung by cobwebs, or +gnawed into sinuosities by hungry rats, thus cruelly +deserted by the cooks who ought to have fed them? +Yet, in that same stair where Gourlay lived, there was +a <i>door</i> with a history that could not be explained in +that easy way.</p> + +<p>"I say it puzzles me, guidwife Christian, and has +done for years."</p> + +<p>"And mair it should me, George. You have been +here only nine years, but 'tis now twenty-one since my +father was carried to the West Kirk; and a year afore +that I heard him say the house was left o' a morning: +nor sound nor sigh o' human being has been heard in't +since that hour."</p> + +<p>"And then the changes," said Geordie, "hae ta'en +awa the auld folk whase gleg een would hae noticed it. +As for Bailie or Dean o' Guild, nane o' them hae ever +tirled the padlock."</p> + +<p>"But the factor, auld Dallas o' Lady Stair's Close, +dee'd shortly after my father, and that will partly account +for't."</p> + +<p>"It accounts for naething, guidwife Christian," rejoined +he. "Whar's the laird? Men are sometimes +forgetfu'; but what man, or woman either, ever forgets +their property or heirlooms? Ye ken, love Christian," +he continued, looking askance at her, half in seriousness +and half in humour, "I am a blacksmith, and hae routh +o' skeleton keys."</p> + +<p>"And never ane o' them will touch that padlock +while I'm in your keeping, Geordie. I took ye for an +honest man."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>An opposition or check which Gourlay did not altogether +like; for, in secret truth, he had long contemplated +an entry by these said skeleton keys, and, like +all people who want a justification for some act they wish +to perform, not altogether consistent with what is right, +he had often in serious playfulness knocked his foot +against the old worm-eaten, wood-rusted, dry-rotted +door, as if he expected some confined ghost to shriek, +like that unhappy spirit of the Buchan Caves, "Let me +out, let me out!" whereupon Mr. Gourlay would have +been, we doubt not, more humane than his old father-god, +who would not let the pretty mother of love out of +his iron net.</p> + +<p>"Honest! there's twa-three kinds o' honesty, wife +Christian. There's the cauld iron or steel kind, that +will neither brak nor bend—the lukewarm, that is +stiff—and the red hot, which canna be handled, but +may be twisted by a bribe o' the hammer, or the +cajoling o' the nippers. What kind would ye wish +mine to be?"</p> + +<p>"The cauld, that winna bend."</p> + +<p>"And canna be fashioned to man's purposes, and +made a picklock o'? Weel, weel, Christian, I'm content."</p> + +<p>But George Gourlay was not content, neither then +nor for several nights; nor even in that hour when, +having watched guidwife Christian as she lay on the +liver side, and heard the "snurr, snurr," of her deepest +sleep, and listened to the corresponding knurr of the +old timepiece as it beat hoarsely the key-stone hour +between the night and the day, he slipt noiselessly out +of bed, and listened again to ascertain whether his +stealthy movement had disturbed his wife. All safe—nor +sound anywhere within the house, or even in the +Wynd, where midnight orgies of the new-comers some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>times +annoyed the remaining grandees not yet gone +over the Loch; no, nor rap, rap, upwards from the +spirits in the deserted house right below him, inviting +him by the call of "Let me out." Most opportune +silence,—not even broken by guidwife Christian's +Baudron watching with brain-lighted eyes at some hole +in a meat-press. And dark too, not less than Cimmerian, +save only for a small rule of moonlight, which, +penetrating a circular hole in the shutter, played fitfully, +as the clouds went over its source, on a point of +the red curtains—sometimes disappearing altogether. +By a little groping he got his hose; nor more would +he venture to search for, but finding his way by touch +of the finger, he reached the kitchen, where he lighted +the end of a small dip. A sorry glimmer indeed; but +it enabled him to lay his hands on a bunch of crooked +instruments, which he lifted so stealthily that even a +mouse would have continued nibbling forbidden cheese, +and been not a whit alarmed. Then there was the +more dangerous opening of the door leading to the +tortuous stair—dangerous, for that quick ear ben the +house, which knew the creak as well as she did the +accents of Geordie Gourlay. Ah, <i>tutum silentii prĉmium</i>! +has he not gone through all this, and reached +the stair without a sneeze or sigh of mortal to disturb +him!</p> + +<p>So far was he fortunate; and slipshod in worsted +of wife Christian's own working, who so little thought, +as she pleased herself with the reflection of the softness +for his feet, that she was to be cheated thereby, +he slipped gently down the steps on this enterprise he +had revolved in his mind for years and years of bygone +time. Come to the identical old door. He had examined +it often by candle-light before; and as for the +rusty hasp and staple, and appended padlock, he knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +them well, with all their difficulties to even smith's +hands of his horny manipulation. He laid down the +glimmering candle and paused. What a formidable +object of occlusion, that door by which no one had +entered for twenty years! Geordie knew nothing of +the old notion, that time fills secret and vacant recesses +with terrified ghosts, frightened away from the haunts +of men; yet he had strange misgivings, which, being +the instinctive suggestions of a rude mind, had a better +chance for being true to nature. Perhaps the cold +night air, to which his shirt offered small impediment, +helped his tremulousness; and that was not diminished +when, on seizing the padlock, a scream from some +drunken unfortunate in the Wynd struck on his ear +and died away in the midnight silence. Nor was he +free from the pangs of conscience, as he thought of the +injunctions of guidwife Christian, and, more than these, +the sanctions of morality and the laws; but then he +was not a thief,—only an antiquary, searching into a +dungeon of time-hallowed curiosities and relics. He +laid his hard hand on the rusty padlock. He was +accustomed to the screech of old bolts, but that now +was as if it came from some of Vulcan's chains whereby +he caught the old thieves. The key-hole was entirely +filled up with red rust, which, like silence stuffing up +the mouth, had kept the brain-works unimpaired; so +it needed no long time till, through his cunning +crooks, he heard the nick of the receding bolt. A +tug brought up the hasp, and now all ought to +have been clear; but it was otherwise. Time, with +his warpings and accumulating glues, had been there +too long—the door would not give way, even to a +smith's right hand; but Geordie had a potency in his +back, before which other unwilling impediments of the +same kind, sometimes with a debtor's resistance at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +other side, had given way. That potency he applied; +and the groan of the hinges responding fearfully to his +ears, the vision was at length realized, of that door +standing open for the passage of human beings.</p> + +<p>So far committed, Geordie's courage came with a +drawing up of his muscles; and muttering between +his teeth, which risped like files, "I will face any one +except the devil," he lifted the candle, the glimmer of +which paled in the thick air of the opening. He waved +it up and down before he entered; but it seemed as if +the weak rays could not find their way in the dense +atmosphere—enough, notwithstanding, to show him +dimly a long lobby. He snorted as the accumulated +must stimulated his nostrils; but there was more than +must—the smell was that of an opened grave which +had been covered with moil for a century. Yet his +step was instinctively forward,—the small light flitting +here and there like the fitful gleam of a magic lantern. +Half groping with the left hand, as he held the candle +with his right, he soon began to discover particulars. +There were three doors, opening no doubt to rooms, on +his left; and as the light—becoming accustomed, like +men's eyes, to the dark—shone forwards towards the +end, he saw another door, which was open. Desperate +men—and Geordie was now wound up—aim at the +farthest extremities. He made his way forward, laying +down each stocking-clad foot as if in fear of being heard +by the family below, whose hysterics at a tread above +them at midnight, and in that house, would lead to +inquiry and detection.</p> + +<p>He came at length to the open door at the end of +the lobby, and ventured in. He was presently in the +middle of the kitchen, holding the candle up to see as +far around him as he could. Geordie had never read +of those scenes of enchantment where veritable men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +and women, with warm blood in their veins, were, on +being touched by a wand, changed into statues with +the very smile on their faces which they wore at the +moment of transmutation; in which state they were to +remain for a hundred years, till the wand was broken +by a fairy, when they would all start into their old life. +No matter if he had not, for here there was no change: +the kitchen was as it had been left, twenty years before. +The plate-rack, with the china set all along in regular +order—no change there; nor on the row of pewter +jugs, one of which stood on the dresser, with a bottle +alongside, and a screw with the cork still on its spiral +end. No doubt some one had been drinking just on +the eve of the cessation of the living economy. A +square fir-table stood in the middle, supplied with +plates ready to be carried to the dining-room; and +these plates were certainly not to have been supplied +with imaginary meals, like those in the Eastern tale, +for, as he held the candle down towards the grate, yet +half filled with cinders, he saw the horizontal spit with +the skeleton of a goose stuck on it. The motion of the +spit had been suspended when the works ran out, and +Baudron had feasted upon the flesh when it became +cold. Nay, that cat, no doubt cherished, lay extended +in anatomy before the fireplace. Nor could it be +doubted that the roast had not been ready; for the +axe lay beside a piece of coal half splintered, for the +necessities of the diminished fire. An industrious house +too, wherein the birr of the wheel and the sneck of the +reel had sounded: the pirn was half filled, and the +wisp, from which the thread had been drawn, lay over +the back of a chair, as it had been taken from the +waist of the servant maid. But why should not the +sluttish girl's bed have been made at a time of the day +when a goose was roasting for dinner? Nor did Geordie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +try to answer, because the question was as far from his +wondering mind, as the time when he stood there himself +enchanted was from the period of that marvellous +dereliction.</p> + +<p>With eyes rounder, and wider, and considerably +glegger, than when he left goodwife Christian snoring +in her bed, so unconscious of what her husband was to +see, he retraced his steps to the kitchen-door, and turning +to the right, opened that next to him. It was the +dining-room. He peered about as his wonder still +grew. The long oak-table, in place of the modern +sideboard, ran along the farther end, whereon were +decanters and two silver cups; and not far from these +a salver, with a shrivelled lump, hard as whinstone, and +of the form of a loaf, with a knife lying alongside. +The very cushion of the settee opposite to the fireplace +had preserved upon it the indentation of a human head. +But much less wonderful was the cloth-covered table, +with salt-cellars and spice-boxes, and plates, with knives +and forks appropriated to each; for had not Geordie +seen the goose at the fire in the kitchen! The indispensable +pictures, too, were all round on the dingy +walls—every one a portrait—staring through dust; and +a special one of a female, with voluminous silks, and a +high flour-starched toupee, claimed the charmed eye of +the blacksmith. Even in the vertigo of his wonder, he +looked stedfastly at that beautiful face; nor did the +painted eye look less stedfastly at him, as if, after +twenty years, it was again charmed by the vision of a +living man, to the withdrawing of that eye from the +figure alongside of her, so clearly that of her husband. +That they were master and mistress of this very house +he would have concluded, if he had been calm enough +to think; but he was, alas, still under the soufflé of the +bellows of romantic wonder.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>Where next, if he could take his eye off that beautiful +countenance? There was a middle door leading into +another room: he would persevere and still explore. +Holding up the fast-diminishing candle, he looked in. +There was a female figure there, standing in the dark, +beside a bed. It was arrayed in a long gown, reaching +to the feet, of pure white (as accords). It moved. +Geordie could see it plainly: it was the only thing with +living motion in all that still and dreary habitation. +Hitherto his hair had kept wonderfully flat and sleek, +but now it began to crisp, and swirm, and rise on end; +while his legs shook, and the trembling had made the +glimmer oscillate in every direction, whereby sometimes +it turned away from the figure, again to illuminate it +sparingly, and again to vibrate off. He could not, notwithstanding +his terror, recede; nay, he tried ineffectually +to fix the ray on the very thing that thrilled him +through every nerve. Verily, he would even go forward, +under the charm of his fear, which, like other morbid +feelings, would feed on the object which produced it. +First a step, and then a step. The glimmer was again +off the mark; and when he got to the bed, the figure +was gone—according to the old law.</p> + +<p>But the bed was too certainly there, with its deep +green curtains, which were drawn close, indicating +midnight; and yet the goose at the fire, and the table +laid! Nor could Geordie explain the physical anomaly, +probably for the reason that he did not try. His candle +was wasting away with those endless oscillations: the +figure in white itself had run off with the half of the +short stump; and he feared again to be left in the dark, +where he would have a difficulty in finding his way out. +Yet he felt he must draw these deep green curtains: +the broad hand of Fate was upon his shoulders. He +seized them hysterically, and pulled them aside far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +enough to let in his head and the candle hand. A +dark counterpane was covered quarter-inch thick with +dust; but the odour was not now of must, it was a +choking flesh and bone rot, scarcely bearable; even +the light felt the heaviness, and almost died away in +his tremulous fingers. There were clothes beneath the +counterpane, and a long, narrow tumulus down the +middle, as if a body were there, of half its usual size; +but little more was visible, till the eye was turned to +the top where the pillow lay, half up which the dark +counterpane was drawn. There was a head on the +pillow, partly covered by the coverlet, partly by a +round-eared mutch—once, no doubt, white as snow, +now brown as a Norway rat's back; yet Geordie would +peer, and peer, till he saw an orbless socket of pure +white bone, and a portion of two rows of white teeth +clenched. An undoing of the clothes would have +shown him—how much more? But his shaking was +now a palsy of the brain, and he could not undo the +suspected horror. He turned suddenly; and, as the +green curtain fell with a flap, the dip lost its flame, and +a black reek vied with that heavy cadaverousness. He +was in the dark.</p> + +<p>Such is the effect of degrees, that, as he groped and +groped in a place where he had lost all landmarks, and +the topography had become a confusion, he could have +wished to see again the figure in white; which, from its +own light, could surely, as a spirit, lead him out. His +brain got into a swirl. If the white figure was the +spirit of that thing which he had seen so partially in +the bed, would it not return to flit about its own old +tenement? yet not a trail of that white light cast a +glance anywhere. Groping and groping, knocking his +head against unknown things, he turned and turned, +but could not find the lobby. He had got through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +another door, but not that leading outwards. He must +have got into another room; for he felt and grasped +things he had not heretofore seen. Then the noise he +had made had such a dreary sound, falling on his +strained, nerve-strung ear! His hand shrunk at everything +he touched, as if it had been a deaf adder, or +deadly nag—above all, a shock of hair, from which he +recoiled more than ever yet, till the devious turns +round and round obliterated every recollection of what +he had understood of localities. So far he must have +retraced his steps; for he had again the green curtain +in his left hand without knowing it, and the right went +slap upon that round-eared mutch, and the bone that +was under the same. Recalled a little to his senses, he +got at length to the kitchen, circumambulated and circummanipulated +the table, and groped his way to the +door in the end of the lobby, through which he had +first entered. All safe now by the lines of the two +walls, he hugged the outer door as if it had been a +twenty years' absent friend, a father, or a wife.</p> + +<p>Nor did he take time to relock the padlock. He had, +besides, lost his crooked instruments. Ah! how sweet +to get into a warm bed safe and sound, after having +fancied that from such a white figure hovering round +dry bones he had heard—for Geordie had read plays—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I am that body's spirit,</span><br /> +Doomed for a certain time to walk the night;<br /> +And for the day confined, to fast in fires,<br /> +Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature<br /> +Are burnt and purged away."<br /> +</p> + +<p>How delightful to Geordie was that snore of wife +Christian, as she still lay on the liver side, perhaps +dreaming of seraphim!</p> + +<p>The adventure of that midnight hour dated the be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>ginning +of a change on George Gourlay. One might +have said of him, with the older playwright who never +pictured a ghost, <i>quod scis nescis</i>; for then never a word +scarcely would he speak to man or beast, nay, not even +to a woman, who has a power of breaking the charm of +that silence in others of which their sex are themselves +incapable—even, we say, wife Christian. There are +many Trophonian caves in the world about us, only +known to ourselves, out of which, when we come, we are +mute, because we have seen something different from +the objects of the sunlight; yea, if, as the Indians say, +the animals are the dumb of earth, these are the dumb +of heaven. Certain at least it is, that while Geordie +did not hesitate before that night to use his voice in +asking an extravagant price for an old lock, or even +damning him who below made more noise than nails, +he never now used that tongue in such dishonesties and +irreverences. But, what was even more strange, wife +Christian did not seem to have any inclination to break +his silent mood; nay, if he was moody, so was she. +Then her eyelight was so changed to him, that he could +not thereby, as formerly, read her thoughts. Perhaps +she took all this on from imitation; but she was not +one of the imitative children of genius—rather a hard-grained +Cameronian, to whom others' thoughts are only +as a snare; yet, might she not have had suspicions of +her husband's silence? All facts were against such a +supposition, except one: that, on the following morning, +she observed dryly, that the dip she had left in the +kitchen had burnt away of its own special accord. +Vain thoughts all. Geordie was simply "born again;" +and old women do not speak to infants, until, at least, +they can hear.</p> + +<p>Nor did this mood promise amendment even up to +that night, when a rap having come to the door,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +Geordie started, while guidwife Christian went undismayed +to open the same; for, moody as she was, she +was not affected by evening raps as he was, and had +been since that eventful midnight. But if the sturdy +blacksmith was afraid before she obeyed the call, he +was greatly more so after she had opened the door, +and when she led into the parlour an old man, with +hair more than usually grey even for his years, with a +staff in his hand, bearing up, as he came in, a tall, +wasted body—so wasted, that he might have been supposed +to have waited all this time for a leg of that +goose which had been so very long at the fire. The +grief of years had eaten up his face, and only left untouched +the corrugations itself had made. Yet withal +he was a gentleman; for his bow to Geordie was just +that which the grandees of the Wynd made to each +other as they passed and repassed. No sooner was he +seated, holding his cane between his shrivelled legs, +and his sharp grey eye fixed on the blacksmith, than +the latter became as one enchanted for a second time, +with all the horrors of the first catalepsy upon him, by +the process of the double sense insisted for by Abercromby, +but thus known in Bell's Wynd before his day. +Yes, Geordie was entranced again, nor less guidwife +Christian—both staring at the stranger, as if their +minds had gone back through long bygone years to +catch the features of a prototype for comparison with +that long, withered face, so yellow and grave-like; then +Christian looked stealthily, and concealed her face.</p> + +<p>"You are a blacksmith, Mr. Gourlay?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"How long have you been here in Bell's Wynd?"</p> + +<p>"Nine years, come Beltane Feast."</p> + +<p>"Not so much as the half of twenty," said the stranger, +more inwards than outwards.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Twenty!" ejaculated Christian, as if she could not +just help herself.</p> + +<p>And Geordie searched her rigid face for a stray +sympathy, repeating within the teeth that very same +word—"Twenty."</p> + +<p>"Then," continued the old man, "you cannot tell +who occupied the flat below at that long period back?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And who occupies it now?"</p> + +<p>Geordie was as dumb as the white figure, or as the +head on the pillow with the rat-brown mutch; and +this time Christian answered for him:</p> + +<p>"It hasna been occupied for twenty years, sir; and +it has been shut up a' that lang time."</p> + +<p>"Twenty years!" ejaculated the old man, pondering +deeply, and sighing heavily and painfully.</p> + +<p>"Do any of you know Mr. Thomas Dallas, the Clerk +to the Signet, who lived once in Lady Stair's Close?"</p> + +<p>"Dead eighteen years since," replied the wife.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see," rejoined the stranger; "and so the house +has been thus long closed!" Then musingly, "But then +it will be empty—no furniture, nothing but bare walls."</p> + +<p>"Naebody kens," replied George, still busy examining +the face of the questioner, as if he could not get it to +be steady alongside the image in his own mind.</p> + +<p>"You can, of course, open a padlock?"</p> + +<p>"Ou ay, when it's no owre auld, and the brass slide +has been well kept on the key-hole." Then, as if recollecting +himself, "I hinna tried an auld ane for years."</p> + +<p>"One twenty years unopened?" rejoined the stranger.</p> + +<p>Geordie was again dumb and rigid.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, sir," replied Christian, who saw that her +husband was under some strong feeling, "he can pick +ony lock."</p> + +<p>"The very man," said the mysterious visitor. "And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +now, madam, will you allow me to take the liberty of +requesting to be for a few moments the only one +present in this room with your husband, as I have +some business of a very secret nature to transact with +him, which it would not be proper for a woman, +even of your evident discretion and confidence, to be +acquainted with?"</p> + +<p>"I dinna want ye to gang," whispered George.</p> + +<p>"And what for no?" muttered she. "Let evil-doers +dree the shame o' their deeds. Didna ye say to me ye +were an honest man, ay, even as cauld iron or steel, +and what ought ye to hae to fear? And now, sir," +turning round, "I will e'en tak me to the kitchen, that +what ye want wi' George Gourlay you may do in secret, +even as he has been secret wi' me."</p> + +<p>Then guidwife Christian went out, casting, as she +went, a look of something like triumph at her husband.</p> + +<p>"And now, George Gourlay," said the stranger, "the +secret thing I have to transact with you, and for which +I have come three thousand miles, is to ask you to go +with me this night and open the padlock of the door of +that house below, which has not been opened for twenty +years."</p> + +<p>"I winna, I canna, I daurna, sir. Gang to the Dean +o' Guild. There's a dead body in the green bed, and +there's a spirit in a lang white goun that watches it."</p> + +<p>The hand of the stranger shook, as he grasped +spasmodically his staff; his teeth for a moment were +clenched; and he plainly showed a resolution not to +seem moved by that which as clearly did move him to +the innermost parts of his being. Nor did it now escape +Gourlay, as he sat and gazed at him, that he was the +original of that picture in the dining-room, which hung +by the side of the beautiful lady.</p> + +<p>"Then you must have been in?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>Geordie was silent, meditating on some new light +gradually breaking in upon him.</p> + +<p>"You must have been in, and—and—know the +secret?"</p> + +<p>"I ken nae secret, except it be that the goose which +has been at the fire for twenty years is no roasted yet."</p> + +<p>"That goose at the fire even yet!" ejaculated the +stranger.</p> + +<p>"Ay, and the thread still on the pirn."</p> + +<p>"Pirn!" responded he mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Ay, and the bottle standing on the dresser along by +the pewter mug."</p> + +<p>"Mug!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, and the half-cut loaf on the oaken table, with +alongside o't the knife."</p> + +<p>"Knife!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, and to cap a', the green bed with the dark red +counterpane, and in it still the corpse."</p> + +<p>"Corpse!"</p> + +<p>"So, so," continued the stranger, "I have been wandering +the wide world for twenty years to escape from +myself, as if a man could leave his shadow in the east +when he has gone to the west, and all that time found +the vanity of a forced forgetfulness where the touch of +God's finger still burned in the heart. Ay, nor long +prairies, nor savannahs where objects are cast behind +and not seen, nor thick woods which exclude the sun, +nor rocky caves by the sea-shore, where there is only +heard the roaring of the waves, could untwine the dark +soul from its recollections. But other things of earth +and human workmanship rot and pass away, as if all +were vanity, but man's spirit; and yet here it has been +decreed by Heaven, and wrought by miracle, that things +of flesh, and bone, and wood, and dried grass should be +enchanted for duration, yea, kept in the very place, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +form, and lineaments they possessed in a terrible hour, +the memory of which they must conserve for a purpose. +Speak man: Have those sights and things taught you +aught of a purpose? Why look ye at me as if you +saw into my heart, and grin as if you were gifted with +the right of revenge? What thoughts have you—what +wishes? What do you premeditate?"</p> + +<p>"Just nae mair than that you'll no get me to enter +that house again."</p> + +<p>The stranger's head was bent down in heavy sorrow; +and, after being silent for a while, he rose, and bidding +Gourlay good night, went away, saying he would get +another locksmith. The strange manner of Christian +was now made even more remarkable, as, taking her +bonnet and cloak, she sallied forth, late as the hour +was, proceeding up the Wynd, and muttering as she +went, "The very man, the very man," she made direct +for Blackfriars Wynd, where she stopt, and looked up +to a small window on the right hand. There was light +in it; and ascending a narrow stair she reached a door, +which she quietly opened. A woman was there, busily +spinning. The birr ceased as the door opened.</p> + +<p>"Ann Hall," cried Christian, as she entered, "he is +come, he is come! I kent his face the moment I saw it."</p> + +<p>"Patience, patience, Christian," replied the woman, +"what are you to do?"</p> + +<p>"There maun be nae patience, when God says haste."</p> + +<p>"Canny, canny. The wa's are thin and ears are gleg. +I can hear a whisper frae the next room. Now, I'll +spin and you'll speak."</p> + +<p>And so she began to produce the dirl by turning the +wheel and plying the thread.</p> + +<p>"What although ye hae seen him? that maks nae +difference. Your aith is still afore the Lord; and +though we are forbidden to swear, when we hae sworn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +we hae nae right to brak that aith, as if it were a silly +wand, to be broken and cast awa' at the end o' our +journey. And then ye maun keep in mind, if you brak +your word, ye stretch his neck."</p> + +<p>"I carena," replied Christian. "The Lord maun hae +His ain for reward, and Satan maun hae his ain, too, +for punishment. Sin' ever that eery night when in my +night-shirt I followed George into the house, and saw +what I saw, the Spirit o' the Lord has been busy in my +heart; and my aith has been to me nae mair than a +windlestrae in the east wind, to be blawn awa' where it +listeth. Ye are, like mysel', o' the Auld Light, and ken +what it is to hae the finger o' command laid upon ye."</p> + +<p>"We maun obey; but we maun ken whether the +finger is for the will o' the auld rebel o' pride, wha +rebelled in heaven, or Him wha says to the murderer, +Get ye among the rocks or caves o' secrecy, and I will +search ye out, and rug ye into the licht."</p> + +<p>"And what for should I no ken whase finger it is?" +said wife Christian. "Have I no seen what I have seen? +For what are a' thae things keepit, as man keeps the +apple o' his e'e? Is na the rust and the worm, ay, and +Time's teeth, aye eating, and gnawing, and tearing, so +that everything passes awa' to make room for others, +as if the hail warld were a whirligig turning round +like your ain wheel there for ever and ever?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, the Lord's hand, na doubt. The deil doesna +keep the instruments and signs o' his evil, but shuffles +them awa' in nooks and corners to be out o' the een o' +his victims."</p> + +<p>"But hae I no laid my very hand on the fleshless head +o' the bonny misguided creature? Wae tak the man +wha brought sae muckle beauty to the earth to rot, +and yet hae nae grave to cover it!"</p> + +<p>"Weel mind I o' her," said Ann, as she still made the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +wheel go round. "How she sailed up the Wynd wi' +her load o' silks and satins, and the ribbons that waved +in the wind, as if to say, Look here; saw ye ever the +like among the daughters o' men?"</p> + +<p>"It was left to testify, woman, naething else; but +the glimmer o' Geordie's candle showed me a' the lave. +Ay, the very goose I plucked, and drew, and singed, +and put on the spit—what for is it there, think ye, +cummer, but to testify? and the pewter jug I drank +out o' that forenoon, and my ain bed I hadna time to +mak—what for but to testify?"</p> + +<p>"And punish. But oh, woman, he had sair provocations. +Wha was that goose for?"</p> + +<p>"For her lover, nae doubt; for my master wasna +expected hame for a week. And was I no guilty +mysel', wha played into her hands, and was fause to +him wha fed me?"</p> + +<p>"Haud your peace, then, and say naething. The +Lord will forgi'e you."</p> + +<p>"Oh God, hae mercy on me, a sinner; and tak awa' +frae me this transgression, that I may lift up my voice +in the tabernacle without fear or trembling!"</p> + +<p>The wheel turned with greater celerity and more +noise, and wife Christian was on her knees, beating her +bosom and crying for mercy.</p> + +<p>"Say nae mair, woman," cried the spinner, "and do +nae mair. Let the corpse lie in the green bed, and a' +thing be in the wud-dream o' that dreary house; do +nae mair."</p> + +<p>"But the Lord drives me."</p> + +<p>"Just sae; and he wham you would hang on the +wuddy will stand up against ye, and swear ye were the +cause o' the death o' his braw leddie, for that ye concealed +her trothlessness, and winked at her wickedness."</p> + +<p>"Haud your tongue, cummer," cried the Old Light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +Sinner; "haud your tongue, or you'll drive me mad. +Is my heart no like aneugh to brak its strings, but ye +maun tug at them? Is my brain no het aneugh, but +ye maun set lowe to it, and burn it? And my conscience, +ken ye na what it is to hae that terrible thing +within ye, when it's waukened up like a fiend o' hell, +chasing ye wi' a red-het brand, and nae escape, for the +angel o' the Lord hauds ye agen? Ann Hall, my +auldest friend, will ye do this thing for me?"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Gang to Mr B——, the fiscal, and tell him that the +corpse is there, and that the man is here, and say naething +o' me; do this, or I'll never haud up my hands +again for grace and mercy."</p> + +<p>Ann was silent, only driving the wheel, the sound of +which in the silent house—dark enough, too, in the +small light of the oil cruise over the fireplace—was all +that was heard, save the occasional sobs of the unhappy +victim of conscience.</p> + +<p>"I canna, Christian; I canna, lass. I'll hang nae +man for the death o' a light-o'-love limmer, and to +save the conscience o' ane wha, if she didna see something +wrang when it <i>was</i> wrang, ought to hae seen it."</p> + +<p>"I repent and am sair in the spirit," replied Christian; +"but if I had tauld him what I suspected was +wrang between Spynie—and ye ken he was a lord, +and titles cast glamour ower the een o' maidens—and +my mistress, it would hae been a' the same. But wae's +me!" she added, as she sighed from the depths of the +heart, and wrung her hands, "I had a lichtness about +me myself. A woman's no in her ain keeping at wild +happy nineteen. The heart is aye jumping against the +head. But oh, how changed when the Auld Licht shone +ower me! And hae I no been a guid wife to Geordie +Gourlay? Will you no help me, woman?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hae said it," replied Mrs Hall, as the energy of her +resolution passed into the moving power of the wheel, +and the revolutions became quicker and quicker.</p> + +<p>The Cameronian stood for a moment looking at her—the +lips compressed, the brow knit, the hand firmly +bound up, and striking it upon the wall.</p> + +<p>"Ye're o' my faith," said she bitterly; "and may the +Evil One help ye when ye're in need o' the Lord!"</p> + +<p>And with these words she left her old friend, drawing +the door after her with a clang, which shook the crazy +tenement. In a moment she was in the street, now +beginning to be deserted. The wooden-pillared lamps, +so thinly distributed, and their small dreary spunk of +life, showed only the darkness they were perhaps intended +to illumine; and here and there was seen a +gay-dressed sprig of aristocracy, with his gold-headed +cane, cocked hat, and braided vest, strolling unsteadily +home, after having drunk his couple of claret. Solitary +city guardsmen were lounging about, as if waiting +for the peace being broken, when an encounter occurred +between some such ornamented braggadocio and a +low Wynd blackguard—ready to use his quarter-staff +against the silver-handled sword of the aristocrat; +and here and there the high-pattened, short-gowned +light-o'-love, regardless of the loud-screamed "gardy-loo," +frolicked with "gold lace and wine," or swore the +Edinburgh oaths at untrue and discarded lovers of +their own degree. But guidwife Christian saw none +of all these things; only one engrossing vision was in +her mind, that of the sleeping scene of enchantment in +the old flat, associated with the figure of the stranger;—one +feeling only was paramount in her heart, the inspired +awe of the conviction that these petrified relics +of another time, so long back, were there waiting for +her to touch them, that they should be disenchanted,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +and speak and tell their tale, and then rot and depart, +according to the usual law of change, and corruption, +and decay.</p> + +<p>In this mood she got to the top of the Wynd, and +was hurrying along the first or covered portion, overspread +by the front lands, and therefore dark, when +she encountered a man rolled up in a cloak. Even in +the dim light coming from the street lamp on the main +pavement, she recognised him in a moment. He was +slouching down by the side of the wall, and did not +seem to notice her. So Christian held back, until he +had got farther on. She felt herself concentrated upon +his movements, and observed that he hung about her +own stair, standing in the middle of the close, with his +eye fixed on the dark windows of the deserted flat. +There was no meaning in his action. It seemed simply +that his eye was bound to that house. So far Christian +understood the ways of the world; but there are +deeper mysteries there than she wotted of or dreamed +just then. A man will examine a gangrene if it is +hopeful; and will hope, and shrink, and be alarmed, +when the hope fails only but a little; nay, he will +dread the undoing of the bandages, lest the hope of +the prior undoing should be changed by the new aspect +into a conviction of aggravation; but there is a state of +that ailment, as of moral ills, where all hope having +vanished, despair comes to be reconciled to its own +terrors, and the eye will peer into the hopeless thing, +ay, and be charmed with it, and dally with it, as an +irremediable condition, which is his own peculium, a +part of his nature, so far changed. He then becomes +a lover of pity, as before he was a seeker for hope; +and, like a desperate bankrupt, will hawk the balance-sheet +of his ills, to make up for the subtraction from +his credit by the sympathy of the world. So did that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +man look upon that house, a hopeless sore, after twenty +years pain and agony, with these green spots, and the +caustic-defying "proud flesh." Was not the fleshless +corpse of his dead wife still there? She was a skeleton; +but he could only fancy her as he had seen her twenty +years before, a young and beautiful woman. Nor was +he alarmed as Christian, weary of waiting but not unsteeled +now for a recognition, stept forward and confronted +him.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Gourlay!" he said, as he peered into her hard +face.</p> + +<p>"Ay, guidwife Christian, as my husband says. +Christian Gourlay that is—Christian Dempster that +was."</p> + +<p>"Dempster!" ejaculated he, as he staggered and sustained +himself against the side of the close.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir—Patrick Guthrie that was when I was +Dempster, and is—ay, and will be till you are born +again, and baptized with fire."</p> + +<p>"Patrick Guthrie!" he repeated. "Yes, the man, +the very man. And here, too, is the evidence kept +and preserved, perhaps more than once snatched from +death, to be here at this hour to see me, and lay your +hand on me, and be certain that I am the man, the +very man. And," after a pause, "you have kept your +sworn promise?"</p> + +<p>"Till this day. Look up there, and see thae closed +shutters; go in, and behold, and say whether or not."</p> + +<p>"Too faithful!" groaned he.</p> + +<p>"To an aith wrung out o' me by a money-bribe and +terror."</p> + +<p>"And to be repaid by a money-reward and penitence."</p> + +<p>"The ane, sir, but never the other. Another day—another +day," she repeated, "will try a'."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What mean you, Christian?"</p> + +<p>"Mean I? Why are you here?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am weary wandering over the face of the +earth, an exile and a criminal, for twenty long—oh long +years!"</p> + +<p>"And now want rest and peace! And how can ye +get them but through the fire of the law, and the +waters of the gospel? Where are you living?"</p> + +<p>"Why should I conceal from you, Christian?" said +he, thoughtfully. "No—at the White Horse in the +Canongate, under the name of Douglas."</p> + +<p>"<i>Her</i> name! Then look ye to it; for there will be +human voices where none have been for twenty years, +and cries o' wonder, and tears o' pity. Yes, yes, the +long sleep is ended, for the charm is broken. Good +night."</p> + +<p>And hurrying away, she mounted the stair, leaving +the man even more amazed than he was heart-broken +and miserable. Nor will we be far wrong in supposing +that Patrick Guthrie sought the White Horse probably +not to sleep, but if to sleep, as probably to dream. As +for guidwife Christian, she was soon on that side so +propitious to her snoring; and as for her dreams, they +were not more of seraphim, nor of Urim and Thummim, +than they were on that night when she was the disembodied +spirit of her who had lain so long in the bed with +green curtains. Yet, no doubt, Geordie was just as +certain that she slept as he was on that same night +when he saw the said disembodied spirit; and as for +himself, there could be little doubt that, sleeping or +waking, his mind was occupied in tracing the marked +resemblance of the stranger to the picture on the wall, +which would lead him again to the beautiful lady, and +which, again, would remind him of the bones below the +red coverlet; and then there is as little doubt as there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +is about all these wonderful things, that he would fancy +himself beridden with a terrible nightmare. Oppressed +and tortured by thoughts which he could not bring to +bear on any probable event, he turned and turned; but +all his restlessness would produce no effect on guidwife +Christian, who seemed as dead asleep as ever was he of +the Cretan cave in the middle of the seventy years. Nor +could he understand this: heretofore a slight cough, +even slighter than that which brought the Doctor in +the "Devil on Two Sticks," used to awaken the faithful +wife; and now nothing would awaken her. He dodged, +he cried; but she wouldn't help to take off the nightmare, +which, with its old characteristic of tailor-folded +legs and grinning aspect, sat upon his chest, as it +heaved, but could not throw off the imp. But what +was more extraordinary, this strange conduct of Christian +was the continuation of—nay, a climax to—her +inexplicable conduct since ever that night when he +caught up in his mind, as in a prism, that midnight +vision which he had seen, and the fiery coruscations of +which still careered through his brain. Honest Geordie +had no guile; and if he had had any, the new birth he +had undergone, with the consequent baptism, would +have taken it clean away, so that there was no chance +of a suspicion of the part which guidwife Christian had +played on the said occasion. Yet, wonder as he might, +if he had known all, he would have wondered more +how any woman, even with the advantage of a "New +Light," could have snored under the purpose she had +revolved in her mind, and which she had so darkly +revealed to her old master. Ah yes, that female member, +of which so much has been said—even that it +contains on the subtle point thereof a little nerve +which anatomists cannot find in the corresponding +organ in man—can swim lightly <i>tanquam suber</i>, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +yet never give an indication of the depths below. But +Geordie became wild;—was she dead outright? Dead +people do not snore, but the dying do in apoplexy. He +took her by the shoulders, and shook her.</p> + +<p>"Christian, woman, will ye no speak, when I can get +nae rest? Wha was that man wha called here yestreen?"</p> + +<p>No, she wouldn't.</p> + +<p>"And did I no see you look at him as ye never looked +at man before?"</p> + +<p>No avail.</p> + +<p>"And what took ye out so soon after he was awa'?"</p> + +<p>No reply.</p> + +<p>"And what's mair"—the murder was now out,—"did +ye no meet him secretly at the stair-foot, and stand +and speak to him in strange words and strange signs?"</p> + +<p>Not yet.</p> + +<p>"And what, in the name o' Heaven, and a' the ither +powers up and down and round and round, was the +aith that ye swore to him?"</p> + +<p>Another pause.</p> + +<p>"And what money-bribe was it ye spak o' sae secretly +and darkly?"</p> + +<p>All in vain. At length the knurr of the clock, and the +most solemn of all the hours, "one," sounded hoarsely. +Wearied, exhausted, and sorely troubled, Geordie fell +asleep, greatly aided thereto by the eternal oscillation +of that little tongue at the back of the greater and mute +one, the sound of which ceased when the blacksmith +was fairly and certainly over, just as if its services had +been no longer needed that night.</p> + +<p>Surely the next of these eventful days was destined, +either by the Furies or the good goddess, to be that +day that "would try a'." Even these words Geordie +had heard, if he had not caught up many other broken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +sentences, which showed to his distracted mind that +guidwife Christian was in some mysterious way mixed +up with the events and things of the charmed house. +The comparatively sleepless night induced a later than +usual rising; but with what wonder did Geordie Gourlay +ascertain, that late as Christian had been out on the +previous night, she was already again forth of the house, +leaving him to the bachelor work of making his own +breakfast! Where she had gone he could not even +venture to suppose; but certain he was that her absence +was in some way connected with that stranger +with whom he had seen her in communication the +night before. The business did not admit of his waiting; +so he took his morning meal of porridge and milk, +and with thoughts anxious and deep, yet deeper in mere +feeling than portrayment of outward coming events, he +sallied forth for the Luckenbooths. On descending the +stair, he found to his dire amazement the door of the +portentous flat—that grave above ground of so many +things that should have been either under the earth, in +the sinless regions of mortality, or in the mendicant bag +of Time, rolled away beyond the ken of mortal—open. +Yes, that door, with the rusty padlock, and the creaking +hinge, and the worm-eaten panels, was open. He shuddered: +yet he looked ben into the old dark lobby, where +he had groped and so nearly lost himself; and what did +he see? His wife, guidwife Christian, standing in the +middle thereof in her white short-gown, so like, to his +imperfect vision, that spirit he had encountered in that +house before! There seemed to be others there also; +for he heard inside doors creaking, and by and by saw +come out of the far-end door that very man—yea, the +very man. The reflection of a light shone out upon him. +To escape observation, he slipt to a side; and when he +peered in again, no one was to be seen. They had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +passed together into some of the rooms, probably that +bedroom where stood the bed with the green curtains. +Resolved as he had been never to enter that door-way +again, he would have rushed forward, had not a hand +been laid on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"George Gourlay," said a voice behind him.</p> + +<p>"Ay, nae doubt I'm weel kenned."</p> + +<p>"You are in the meantime my prisoner," said an +officer, with the indispensable blue coat, and the red +collar, and the cocked hat.</p> + +<p>"For what?" said Geordie.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll ken that by and by," replied the officer; "the +fiscal will tell ye. Awa' wi' me to the office."</p> + +<p>"Humph! for picking a lock," said the blacksmith. +"The deil put my left fingers between my hammer and +the stiddy when I meddle again wi' rusty padlocks."</p> + +<p>"There's naething dune on earth but what is seen," +said the man, as with something like a smile on his left +cheek, the other retaining its gravity, he held up his +finger as if pointing to heaven.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, there's an e'e there."</p> + +<p>"And to break open a house," continued the officer, +"is death en the wuddy up yonder at the 'Auld Heart.'"</p> + +<p>"But wha, in God's name, is the witness against me?"</p> + +<p>"Guidwife Christian," said the officer again, seriously +enough at least for Geordie's belief of his sincerity.</p> + +<p>"And the woman has turned against her husband! +This is the warst blow ava. But, Lord, man, I stowe +naething."</p> + +<p>"Thieves are no generally at the trouble of picking +locks, rummaging a house, and going away empty-handed, +as if out o' a kirk. But come, you can tell the +Lord Advocate's deputy a' that."</p> + +<p>And George Gourlay was taken away, muttering to +himself, as he went, "This explains a'. Nae wonder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +she wadna speak to the man she intended to hang. +Woman, woman, verily from the beginning hae ye been +we to man, and will be to the end."</p> + +<p>Led up the High Street, yet in such a way as to +avoid any suspicion that he was in the hands of an +officer, George Gourlay was placed safely in the room +of Mr. B——, the procurator-fiscal of that time, for +reasons unknown to us, in the Old Tolbooth. The +entry through the thick iron-knobbed door to the inside +of this dark and dreary pile, which borrowed its +light only through openings left by the irregularities +of the high masses of St. Giles, and the parallel rows +of overshadowing houses, flanked by the booths and +the Crames, was enough to vanquish the heart of the +strongest and the most innocent. Nor was it the darkness +and the squalor alone that were so formidable. +Thick air, loaded with the breath and exhalations from +unhealthiness and disease itself, had made livid faces +and bloodshot eyes; drunken, uproarious voices, and +bacchanalian songs, oaths, denunciations, and peals of +laughter, mixed with groans. Only awanting that inscription +seen by the Hermet shadow who led the +Florentine. Up a stair—through the midst of these +children of evil or victims of misfortune, the innocent +rendered guilty by infection, the condemned to death +made drearily jolly by despair, imitating the recklessness +of mirth,—and now the unfortunate George +Gourlay is before his examinator.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gourlay," said the officer.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, sir," said Mr. B——, "and wait till the +others come. We cannot want Mrs. Gourlay, though no +doubt you can swear to the man. In the meantime, +hold your peace, lest you commit yourself. Say nothing +till you are asked. Most strange affair."</p> + +<p>Thus at once doomed to silence, George sat and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +listened to the mixed buzz of this misery become +ludibund. Nor was his unhappiness thus limited: a +fearful conviction seized him, that long before he was +hanged he would take on the likeness of the wretches +he had passed through;—he would become sleazy; +his eyes would be red, fiery, or bleared with tears, +dried up in the heat of his fevered blood; his cheeks +would be pale-yellow or blue, his voice husky, and his +nose red; he would sing, swear, dance—ay, douce +Geordie would sing even as they. Better be hanged +at once than sent hence thus deteriorated,—an unpleasant +customer in the other world. Nay, one half +of them had greasy, furzy, red nightcaps; and the +chance was therefore a half that he would be thrown +off in one of these, to the eternal disgrace of the +Gourlays of Gersholm, from whom he was descended.</p> + +<p>A full hour passed, bringing no comfort on its heavy +wings. At length another red-necked official entered, +and introduced guidwife Christian herself, and—Patrick +Guthrie.</p> + +<p>When these parties entered, Geordie's eyes and mouth +had relapsed into that condition they presented on that +occasion when he saw the wraith by the bed with the +green curtains.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Gourlay," said Mr. B——, "you are the wife +of George Gourlay, blacksmith?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, and have been for nine years, come the time, +the day, and the hour."</p> + +<p>"Please throw your mind back twenty years."</p> + +<p>"It ower aften gaes back to that time o' its ain accord, +sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell us where you lived, and what you did +about that time."</p> + +<p>"I was servant to Mr. Patrick Guthrie,—this gentleman +sitting at my right hand."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was Mr. Guthrie a married man?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir, he was married to a young lady, whose +maiden name was Henrietta Douglas, ane o' the Brigstons, +as I hae heard."</p> + +<p>"What kind of woman was she?"</p> + +<p>"Bonny, sir, as ony that ever walked the High Street +or the Canongate; and the mair wae, sir. Cheerfu', +too, and light-hearted and merry as the lavrock when +it rises in the morning; ay, and the mair wae!"</p> + +<p>"Why do you add these words?" continued Mr. +B——. "What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Because thae things brought gay gallants about the +house when master was awa' in Angus, whaur he had +a property near Gaigie; but he was nane, I think, o' +the four Guthries."</p> + +<p>"Then you knew that they came without the knowledge +and against the wishes of your master?"</p> + +<p>"Ower weel, sir, for my peace these twenty years +bygane."</p> + +<p>"Then you think there was more than indiscretion +in Mrs. Guthrie?"</p> + +<p>"Muckle mair, I doubt."</p> + +<p>"Do you recollect the names of any of these gay +gallants?"</p> + +<p>"There was Lord Spynie, a wild dare-the-deil; but +sae merry, and jovial, and pleasant, that his very een +were nets to catch women's hearts."</p> + +<p>"Do you remember anything happening when +Lord Spynie was in the house in Bell's Wynd?"</p> + +<p>"Ay; on the last day o' my service, yea, the last +day o' my leddie's life. My maister had gane to Gaigie, +as I thought; but I aye doubted if he had been farther +than the White Horse. He wouldna return for a +week, not he; and so my leddie thought, for the next +day she ordered me to get a goose, and roast it on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +spit; and weel I kenned wha the goose was for. But +I didna like the business, for I had my pirns to finish—no, +gude forgie me, that I was against this deception +o' my master. The goose was bought, and plucket, and +singed, and put to the fire. The dinner was to be at +twa o'clock, and Lord Spynie was there by ane. In +half an hour after, wha comes rushing in but my master? +And the moment he saw Spynie, he drew his sword, +and so did his lordship his. My mistress screamed, +and ran between them; and oh! sir, the sword that +was thrust at Spynie gaed clean through my mistress's +fair body. She was dead. Then Lord Spynie lost a' +his courage, and flew out o' the house; and just as he +was passing through the door, my master thrust at +him, and his bluidy sword snapt and was broken clean +through. He came back and looked on my leddy, and +kissed her, ay, and grat like a bairn; but oh! he was +composed too. 'Christy,' said he, 'lay your mistress on +the green bed.' And so I did, and streeked her, and +drew the coverlet over her, and put a mutch upon her +head. Oh how fair she was in death! 'Christy,' said +master, 'come hither.' I obeyed. 'Get the Bible,' he +said. I got it. 'Get on your knees,' he said. I knelt. +'Here,' said he, 'is twenty gowden guineas; and now +swear upon the Laws and the Prophets, and the four +Gospels, that you will never, by word, or look, or pen, +reveal to man, or woman, or wean what has been done—in +this house this day.' I swore. 'Now go,' said he; +'for I am to lock up the house, and go far away, +where no man can know me.' So I took my little +trunk, and went away sobbing. Nor was he a moment +after me. I saw him shut the shutters and lock the +door, and walk quickly away. Nor was he ever heard +of more till yesterday; and there he is."</p> + +<p>"Is all this true, Mr. Guthrie?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All true as God's word."</p> + +<p>"And all this happened twenty years ago?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then by the law of Scotland you are a free man, +even were this murder or homicide; for twenty years +is the period of our prescription. You may all go."</p> + +<p>Then they rose to depart.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Guthrie," cried Mr. B——, "bury your wife. +And, hark ye, the goose has been at the fire for twenty +years, and must now, I think, be roasted."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_PRODIGAL_SON" id="THE_PRODIGAL_SON"></a>THE PRODIGAL SON.</h2> + + +<p>The early sun was melting away the coronets of grey +clouds on the brows of the mountains, and the lark, as +if proud of its plumage, and surveying itself in an +illuminated mirror, carolled over the bright water of +Keswick, when two strangers met upon the side of the +lofty Skiddaw. Each carried a small bag and a hammer, +betokening that their common errand was to search for +objects of geological interest. The one appeared about +fifty, the other some twenty years younger. There is +something in the solitude of the everlasting hills, which +makes men who are strangers to each other despise +the ceremonious introductions of the drawing-room. +So it was with our geologists—their place of meeting, +their common pursuit, produced an instantaneous +familiarity. They spent the day, and dined on the +mountain-side together. They shared the contents of +their flasks with each other; and, ere they began to +descend the hill, they felt, the one towards the other, as +though they had been old friends. They had begun to +take the road towards Keswick, when the elder said to +the younger, "My meeting with you to-day recalls to my +recollection a singular meeting which took place between +a friend of mine and a stranger, about seven years ago, +upon the same mountain. But, sir, I will relate to you +the circumstances connected with it; and they might +be called the History of the Prodigal Son."</p> + +<p>He paused for a few moments, and proceeded:—About +thirty years ago a Mr. Fen-wick was possessed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +of property in Bamboroughshire worth about three +hundred per annum. He had married while young, +and seven fair children cheered the hearth of a glad +father and a happy mother. Many years of joy and of +peace had flown over them, when Death visited their +domestic circle, and passed his icy hand over the +cheek of the first-born; and, for five successive years, +as their children opened into manhood and womanhood, +the unwelcome visitor entered their dwelling, till of +their little flock there was but one, the youngest, left. +And O, sir, in the leaving of that one, lay the cruelty +of Death—to have taken him, too, would have been an +act of mercy. His name was Edward; and the love, the +fondness, and the care which his parents had borne for +all their children, were concentrated on him. His +father, whose soul was stricken with affliction, yielded +to his every wish; and his poor mother</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 13em;">"Would not permit</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The winds of heaven to visit his cheek too roughly."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>But you shall hear how cruelly he repaid their love—how +murderously he returned their kindness. He was +headstrong and wayward; and though the small still +voice of affection was never wholly silent in his breast, +it was stifled by the storm of his passions and propensities. +His first manifestation of open viciousness +was a delight in the brutal practice of cock-fighting; +and he became a constant attender at every "<i>main</i>" +that took place at Northumberland. He was a habitual +"<i>bettor</i>," and his losses were frequent; but hitherto +his father, partly through fear, and partly from a too +tender affection, had supplied him with money. A +"main" was to take place in the neighbourhood of +Morpeth, and he was present. Two noble birds were +disfigured, the savage instruments of death were fixed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +upon them, and they were pitted against each other. +"A hundred to one on the Felton Grey!" shouted +Fen-wick. "Done! for guineas!" replied another. +"Done! for guineas!—done!" repeated the prodigal—and +the next moment the Felton Grey lay dead on +the ground, pierced through the skull with the spur of +the other. He rushed out of the cockpit—"I shall +expect payment to-morrow, Fen-wick," cried the other. +The prodigal mounted his horse, and rode homeward +with the fury of a madman. Kind as his father was, +and had been, he feared to meet him or tell him the +amount of his loss. His mother perceived his agony, +and strove to soothe him.</p> + +<p>"What is't that troubles thee, my bird?" inquired +she. "Come, tell thy mother, darling."</p> + +<p>With an oath he cursed the mention of birds, and +threatened to destroy himself.</p> + +<p>"O Edward, love! thou wilt kill thy poor mother. +What can I do for thee?"</p> + +<p>"Do for me!" he exclaimed, wildly tearing his hair +as he spoke—"do for me, mother. Get me a hundred +pounds, or my heart's blood shall flow at your feet."</p> + +<p>"Child! child!" said she, "thou hast been at thy +black trade of betting again. Thou wilt ruin thy +father, Edward, and break thy mother's heart. But +give me thy hand on't, dear, that thou'lt bet no more, +and I'll get thy father to give thee the money."</p> + +<p>"My father must not know," he exclaimed; "I will +die rather."</p> + +<p>"Love! love!" replied she; "but, without asking thy +father, where could I get thee a hundred pounds?"</p> + +<p>"You have some money, mother," added he; "and +you have trinkets—jewellery!" he gasped, and hid his +face as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Thou shalt have them!—thou shalt have them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +child!" said she, "and all the money thy mother has—only +say thou wilt bet no more. Dost thou promise, +Edward—oh, dost thou promise thy poor mother +this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" he cried. And he burst into tears as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>He received the money, and the trinkets, which his +mother had not worn for thirty years, and hurried from +the house, and with them discharged a portion of his +dishonourable debt.</p> + +<p>He, however, did bet again; and I might tell you +how he became a horse-racer also; but you shall hear +that too. He was now about two-and-twenty, and for +several years he had been acquainted with Eleanor +Robinson—a fair being, made up of gentleness and +love, if ever woman was. She was an orphan, and had +a fortune at her own disposal of three thousand pounds. +Her friends had often warned her against the dangerous +habits of Edward Fen-wick. But she had given +him her young heart—to him she had plighted her +first vow—and, though she beheld his follies, she +trusted that time and affection would wean him from +them; and, with a heart full of hope and love, she bestowed +on him her hand and fortune. Poor Eleanor! +her hopes were vain, her love unworthily bestowed. +Marriage produced no change on the habits of the +prodigal son and thoughtless husband. For weeks he +was absent from his own house, betting and carousing +with his companions of the turf; while one vice led the +way to another, and, by almost imperceptible degrees, +he unconsciously sunk into all the habits of a profligate.</p> + +<p>It was about four years after his marriage, when, +according to his custom, he took leave of his wife for +a few days, to attend the meeting at Doncaster.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Eleanor, dear," he said gaily, as he rose +to depart, and kissed her cheek; "I shall be back +within five days."</p> + +<p>"Well, Edward," said she, tenderly, "if you will go, +you must; but think of me, and think of these our little +ones." And, with a tear in her eye, she desired a lovely +boy and girl to kiss their father. "Now, think of us, +Edward," she added; "and do not bet, dearest, do not +bet!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, duck! nonsense!" said he; "did you ever +see me lose?—do you suppose that Ned Fen-wick is not +'wide awake?' I know my horse, and its rider too—Barrymore's +Highlander can distance everything. +But, if it could not, I have it from a sure hand—the +other horses are all '<i>safe</i>.' Do you understand that—eh?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not understand it, Edward, nor do I wish +to understand it," added she; "but, dearest, as you love +me—as you love our children—risk nothing."</p> + +<p>"Love you, little gipsy! you know I'd die for you," +said he—and, with all his sins, the prodigal spoke the +truth. "Come, Nell, kiss me again, my dear—no long +faces—don't take a leaf out of my old mother's book; +you know the saying, 'Never venture, never win—faint +heart never won fair ladye!' Good-bye, love—'bye, +Ned—good-bye, mother's darling," said he, addressing +the children as he left the house.</p> + +<p>He reached Doncaster; he had paid his guinea for +admission to the betting-rooms; he had whispered +with, and slipped a fee to all the shrivelled, skin-and-bone, +half-melted little manikins, called jockeys, to +ascertain the secrets of their horses. "All's safe!" said +the prodigal to himself, rejoicing in his heart. The +great day of the festival—the important St. Leger—arrived. +Hundreds were ready to back Highlander<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +against the field: amongst them was Edward Fen-wick; +he would take any odds—he did take them—he staked +his all. "A thousand to five hundred on Highlander +against the field," he cried, as he stood near a betting-post. +"Done!" shouted a mustachioed peer of the +realm, in a barouche by his side. "Done!" cried Fen-wick, +"for the double, if you like, my lord." "Done!" +added the peer; "and I'll treble it if you dare!" +"Done!" rejoined the prodigal, in the confidence and +excitement of the moment—"Done! my lord." The +eventful hour arrived. There was not a false start. +The horses took the ground beautifully. Highlander +led the way at his ease; and his rider, in a tartan +jacket and mazarine cap, looked confident. Fen-wick +stood near the winning-post, grasping the rails with his +hands; he was still confident, but he could not chase +the admonition of his wife from his mind. The horses +were not to be seen. His very soul became like a solid +and sharp-edged substance within his breast. Of the +twenty horses that started, four again appeared in sight. +"The tartan yet! the tartan yet!" shouted the crowd. +Fen-wick raised his eyes—he was blind with anxiety—he +could not discern them; still he heard the cry of +"The tartan! the tartan!" and his heart sprang to his +mouth. "Well done, orange!—the orange will have +it!" was the next cry. He again looked up, but he +was more blind than before. "Beautiful!—beautiful! +Go it, tartan! Well done, orange!" shouted the +spectators; "a noble race!—neck and neck; six to +five on the orange!" He became almost deaf as well +as blind. "Now for it!—now for it!—it won't do, +tartan!—hurrah!—hurrah!—orange has it!"</p> + +<p>"Liar!" exclaimed Fen-wick, starting as if from a +trance, and grasping the spectator who stood next him +by the throat—"I am not ruined!"—In a moment he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +dropped his hands by his side, he leaned over the railing, +and gazed vacantly on the ground. His flesh +writhed, and his soul groaned in agony. "Eleanor!—my +poor Eleanor!" cried the prodigal. The crowd +hurried towards the winning-post—he was left alone. +The peer with whom he had betted, came behind him; +he touched him on the shoulder with his whip—"Well, +my covey," said the nobleman, "you have lost it."</p> + +<p>Fen-wick gazed on him with a look of fury and despair, +and repeated—"Lost it!—I am ruined—soul and +body!—wife and children ruined!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Fen-wick," said the sporting peer, "I suppose, +if that be the case, you won't come to Doncaster +again in a hurry. But my settling day is to-morrow—you +know I keep sharp accounts; and if you have not +the '<i>ready</i>' at hand, I shall expect an equivalent—you +understand me."</p> + +<p>So saying, he rode off, leaving the prodigal to commit +suicide if he chose. It is enough for me to tell you +that, in his madness and his misery, and from the influence +of what he called his sense of honour, he gave +the winner a bill for the money—payable at sight. +My feelings will not permit me to tell you how the poor +infatuated madman more than once made attempts upon +his own life; but the latent love of his wife and of his +children prevailed over the rash thought, and, in a state +bordering on insanity, he presented himself before the +beings he had so deeply injured.</p> + +<p>I might describe to you how poor Eleanor was sitting +in their little parlour, with her boy upon a stool by her +side, and her little girl on her knee, telling them fondly +that their father would be home soon, and anon singing +to them the simple nursery rhyme—</p> + +<p> +"Hush, my babe, baby bunting,<br /> +Your father's at the hunting," etc.;<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>when the door opened, and the guilty father entered, +his hair clotted, his eyes rolling with the wildness of +despair, and the cold sweat running down his pale +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Eleanor! Eleanor!" he cried, as he flung himself +upon a sofa.</p> + +<p>She placed her little daughter on the floor—she flew +towards him—"My Edward!—oh my Edward!" she +cried—"what is it, love?—something troubles you."</p> + +<p>"Curse me, Eleanor!" exclaimed the wretched prodigal, +turning his face from her. "I have ruined you I—I +have ruined my children!—I am lost for ever!"</p> + +<p>"No, my husband!" exclaimed the best of wives; +"your Eleanor will not curse you. Tell me the worst, +and I will bear it—cheerfully bear it, for my Edward's +sake."</p> + +<p>"You will not—you cannot," cried he; "I have sinned +against you as never man sinned against woman. Oh! +if you would spit upon the very ground where I tread, +I would feel it as an alleviation of my sufferings; but +your sympathy, your affection, makes my very soul destroy +itself! Eleanor!—Eleanor-!—if you have mercy, +hate me—tell me—show me that you do!"</p> + +<p>"O Edward!" said she, imploringly, "was it thus +when your Eleanor spurned every offer for your sake, +when you pledged to her everlasting love? She has +none but you, and can you speak thus? O husband! +if you will forsake <i>me</i>, forsake not my poor children—tell +me! only tell me the worst—and I will rejoice to +endure it with my Edward!"</p> + +<p>"Then," cried Fen-wick, "if you will add to my misery +by professing to love a wretch like me—know you are +a beggar!—and I have made you one! Now, can you +share beggary with me?"</p> + +<p>She repeated the word "Beggary!"—she clasped her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +hands together—for a few moments she stood in silent +anguish—her bosom heaved—the tears gushed forth—she +flung her arms around her husband's neck—"Yes!" +she cried, "I can meet even beggary with my Edward!"</p> + +<p>"O Heaven!" cried the prodigal, "would that the +earth would swallow me! I cannot stand this!"</p> + +<p>I will not dwell upon the endeavours of the fond, +forgiving wife, to soothe and to comfort her unworthy +husband; nor yet will I describe to you the anguish of +the prodigal's father and of his mother, when they heard +the extent of his folly and of his guilt. Already he had +cost the old man much, and, with a heavy and sorrowful +heart, he proceeded to his son's house to comfort his +daughter-in-law. When he entered, she was endeavouring +to cheer her husband with a tune upon the +harpsichord—though, Heaven knows, there was no +music in her breast, save that of love—enduring love!</p> + +<p>"Well, Edward," said the old man, as he took a seat, +"what is this that thou hast done now?"</p> + +<p>The prodigal was silent.</p> + +<p>"Edward," continued the grey-haired parent, "I have +had deaths in my family—many deaths, and thou knowest +it—but I never had to blush for a child but thee! I +have felt sorrow, but thou hast added shame to sorrow—"</p> + +<p>"O father!" cried Eleanor, imploringly, "do not upbraid +my poor husband."</p> + +<p>The old man wept—he pressed her hand, and, with +a groan, said, "I am ashamed that thou shouldst call +me father, sweetest; but if thou canst forgive him, I +should. He is all that is left to me—all that the hand +of death has spared me in this world! Yet, Eleanor, +his conduct is a living death to me—it is worse than +all that I have suffered. When affliction pressed +heavily upon me, and, year after year, I followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +my dear children to the grave, my neighbours sympathized +with me—they mingled their tears with mine; +but now, child—oh, now, I am ashamed to hold up my +head amongst them! O Edward, man! if thou hast +no regard for thy father or thy heart-broken mother, +hast thou no affection for thy poor wife?—canst thou +bring her and thy helpless children to ruin? But that, +I may say, thou hast done already! Son! son! if thou +wilt murder thy parents, hast thou no mercy for thine +own flesh and blood?—wilt thou destroy thine own +offspring? O Edward! if there be any sin that I will +repent upon my death-bed, it will be that I have been +a too indulgent father to thee—that I am the author of +thy crimes!"</p> + +<p>"No, father! no!" cried the prodigal; "my sins are +my own! I am their author, and my soul carries its +own punishment! Spurn me! cast me off!—disown +me for ever!—it is all I ask of you! You despise me—hate +me too, and I will be less miserable!"</p> + +<p>"O Edward!" said the old man, "thou art a father, +but little dost thou know a father's heart! Disown +thee! Cast thee off, sayest thou! As soon could the +graves of thy brothers give up their dead! Never, +Edward! never! O son, wouldst thou but reform thy +ways—wouldst thou but become a husband worthy of +our dear Eleanor; and, after all the suffering thou hast +brought upon her, and the shame thou hast brought +upon thy family, I would part with my last shilling for +thee, Edward, though I should go into the workhouse +myself."</p> + +<p>You are affected, sir—I will not harrow up your +feelings by further describing the interview between +the father and his son. The misery of the prodigal was +remorse, not penitence. It is sufficient for me to say, +that the old man took a heavy mortgage on his pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>perty, +and Edward Fen-wick commenced business as a +wine and spirit merchant in Newcastle. But, sir, he +did not attend upon business; and I need not tell you +that such being the case, business was too proud a +customer to attend upon him. Neither did he forsake +his old habits, and, within two years, he became involved—deeply +involved. Already, to sustain his tottering +credit, his father had been brought to the verge of +ruin. During his residence in Bamboroughshire, he +had become acquainted with many individuals carrying +on a contraband trade with Holland. To amend +his desperate fortunes, he recklessly embarked in it. +In order to obtain a part in the ownership of a lugger, +he <i>used his father's name</i>! This was the crowning evil +in the prodigal's drama. He made the voyage himself. +They were pursued and overtaken when attempting to +effect a landing near the Coquet. He escaped. But +the papers of the vessel bespoke her as being chiefly the +property of his father. Need I tell you that this was +a finishing blow to the old man?</p> + +<p>Edward Fen-wick had ruined his wife and family—he +had brought ruin upon his father, and was himself +a fugitive. He was pursued by the law; he fled from +them; and he would have fled from their remembrance +if he could. It was now, sir, that the wrath of Heaven +was showered upon the head, and began to touch the +heart of the prodigal: Like Cain, he was a fugitive +and a vagabond on the face of the earth. For many +months he wandered in a distant part of the country; +his body was emaciated and clothed with rags, and +hunger preyed upon his very heart-strings. It is a +vulgar thing, sir, to talk of hunger; but they who have +never felt it know not what it means. He was fainting +by the wayside, his teeth were grating together, the +tears were rolling down his cheeks. "The servants of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +my father's house," he cried, "have bread enough and +to spare, while I perish with hunger;" and continuing +the language of the prodigal in the Scriptures, he said, +"I will arise and go unto my father, and say, I have +sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight."</p> + +<p>With a slow and tottering step, he arose to proceed +on his journey to his father's house. A month had +passed—for every day he made less progress—ere the +home of his infancy appeared in sight. It was noon, +and, when he saw it, he sat down in a little wood by a +hill-side and wept, until it had become dusk; for he +was ashamed of his rags. He drew near the house, but +none came forth to welcome him. With a timid hand +he rapped at the door, but none answered him. A +stranger came from one of the outhouses and inquired, +"What dost thou want, man?"</p> + +<p>"Mr Fen-wick," feebly answered the prodigal.</p> + +<p>"Why, naebody lives there," said the other; "and +auld Fen-wick died in Morpeth jail mair than three +months sin'!"</p> + +<p>"Died in Morpeth jail!" groaned the miserable being, +and fell against the door of the house that had been his +father's.</p> + +<p>"I tell ye, ye cannot get in there," continued the +other.</p> + +<p>"Sir," replied Edward, "pity me; and, oh, tell me +is Mrs Fen-wick here—or her daughter-in-law?"</p> + +<p>"I know nought about them," said the stranger. +"I'm put in charge here by the trustees."</p> + +<p>Want and misery kindled all their fires in the breast +of the fugitive. He groaned, and, partly from exhaustion, +partly from agony, sank upon the ground. The +other lifted him to a shed, where cattle were wont to +be fed. His lips were parched, his languid eyes rolled +vacantly. "Water! give me water!" he muttered in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +feeble voice; and a cup of water was brought to him. +He gazed wistfully in the face of the person who stood +over him—he would have asked for bread; but, in the +midst of his sufferings, pride was yet strong in his heart, +and he could not. The stranger, however, was not +wholly destitute of humanity.</p> + +<p>"Poor wretch!" said he, "ye look very fatigued; +dow ye think ye cud eat a bit bread, if I were gi'en it +to thee?"</p> + +<p>Tears gathered in the lustreless eyes of the prodigal; +but he could not speak. The stranger left him, and +returning, placed a piece of coarse bread in his hand. +He ate a morsel; but his very soul was sick, and his +heart loathed to receive the food for lack of which he +was perishing.</p> + +<p>Vain, sir, were the inquiries after his wife, his children, +and his mother; all that he could learn was, that +they had kept their sorrow and their shame to themselves, +and had left Northumberland together, but +where, none knew. He also learned that it was +understood amongst his acquaintances that he had +put a period to his existence, and that this belief +was entertained by his family. Months of wretchedness +followed, and Fen-wick, in despair, enlisted into +a foot regiment, which, within twelve months, was +ordered to embark for Egypt. At that period the +British were anxious to hide the remembrance of their +unsuccessful attack upon Cadiz, and resolved to wrench +the ancient kingdom of the Pharaohs from the grasp of +the proud armies of Napoleon. The Cabinet, therefore, +on the surrender of Malta, having seconded the views +of Sir Ralph Abercrombie, several transports were +fitted out to join the squadron under Lord Keith. In +one of those transports the penitent prodigal embarked. +You are too young to remember it, sir; but at that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +period a love of country was more widely than ever +becoming the ruling passion of every man in Britain; +and, with all his sins, his follies, and his miseries, such +a feeling glowed in the breast of Edward Fen-wick. +He was weary of existence, and he longed to listen to +the neighing of the war-horse, and the shout of its rider, +and as they might rush on the invulnerable phalanx, +and its breastwork of bayonets, to mingle in the rank +of heroes; and, rather than pine in inglorious grief, to +sell his life for the welfare of his country; or, like the +gallant Graham, amidst the din of war, and the confusion +of glory, to forget his sorrows. The regiment to which +he belonged joined the main army off the Bay of Marmorice, +and was the first that, with the gallant Moore +at its head, on the memorable seventh of March, raised +the shout of victory on the shores of Aboukir.</p> + +<p>In the moment of victory, Fen-wick fell wounded on +the field, and his comrades, in their triumph, passed +over him. He had some skill in surgery, and he was +enabled to bind up his wound. He was fainting upon +the burning sand, and he was creeping amongst the +bodies of the slain, for a drop of moisture to cool his +parched tongue, when he perceived a small bottle in +the hands of a dead officer. It was half-filled with +wine—he eagerly raised it to his lips—"Englishman!" +cried a feeble voice, "for the love of Heaven! give me +one drop—only one!—or I die!" He looked around—a +French officer, apparently in the agonies of death, +was vainly endeavouring to raise himself on his side, +and stretching his hand towards him. "Why should +I live?" cried the wretched prodigal; "take it, take it, +and live, if you desire life!" He raised the wounded +Frenchman's head from the sand—he placed the bottle +to his lips—he untied his sash, and bound up his +wounds. The other pressed his hand in gratitude.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +They were conveyed from the field together. Fen-wick +was unable to follow the army, and he was disabled +from continuing in the service. The French officer +recovered, and he was grateful for the poor service +that had been rendered to him; and, previous to his +being sent off with other prisoners, he gave a present of +a thousand francs to the joyless being whom he called +his deliverer.</p> + +<p>I have told you that Fen-wick had some skill in +surgery; he had studied some years for the medical +profession, but abandoned it for the turf and its vices. +He proceeded to Alexandria, where he began to practise +as a surgeon, and, amongst an ignorant people, +gained reputation. Many years passed, and he had +acquired, if not riches, at least an independency. Repentance +also had penetrated his soul. He had inquired +long and anxiously after his family. He had but few +other relatives; and to all of them he had anxiously +written, imploring them to acquaint him with the +residence of the beings whom he had brought to ruin, +but whom he still loved. Some returned no answer to +his applications, and others only said that they knew +nothing of his wife, or his mother, or of his children, +nor whether they yet lived; all they knew was, that +they had endeavoured to hide the shame he had +brought upon them from the world. These words +were daggers to his bruised spirit; but he knew he +deserved them, and he prayed that Heaven would grant +him the consolation and the mercy that were denied him +on earth.</p> + +<p>Somewhat more than seven years ago he returned +to his native country, and he was wandering on the +very mountain where, to-day, I met you, when he +entered into conversation with a youth apparently +about three or four and twenty years of age; and they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +spent the day together as we have done. Fen-wick +was lodging in Keswick, and as, towards evening, they +proceeded along the road together, they were overtaken +by a storm. "You must accompany me home," +said the young man, "until the storm be passed; my +mother's house is at hand,"—and he conducted him +to yonder lonely cottage, whose white walls you perceive +peering through the trees by the water-side. It +was dusk when the youth ushered him into a little +parlour where two ladies sat; the one appeared about +forty, the other threescore and ten. They welcomed +the stranger graciously. He ascertained that they let +out the rooms of their cottage to visitors to the lakes +during the summer season. He expressed a wish to +become their lodger, and made some observations on +the beauty of the situation.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the younger lady, "the situation is +indeed beautiful; but I have seen it when the water, +and the mountains around it, could impart no charm +to its dwellers. Providence has, indeed, been kind to +us, and our lodgings have seldom been empty; but, +sir, when we entered it, it was a sad house indeed. +My poor mother-in-law and myself had experienced +many sorrows; yet my poor fatherless children—for I +might call them fatherless"—and she wept as she spoke—"with +their innocent prattle, soothed our affliction. +But my little Eleanor, who was loved by every one, +began to droop day by day. It was a winter night—the +snow was on the ground—I heard my little darling +give a deep sigh upon my bosom. I started up. I +called to my poor mother. She brought a light to the +bedside—and I found my sweet child dead upon my +breast. It was a long and sad night, as we sat by the +dead body of my Eleanor, with no one near us; and +after she <b>was</b> buried, my poor Edward there, as he sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +by our side at night, would draw forward to his knee +the stool on which his sister sat—while his grandmother +would glance at him fondly, and push aside the stool +with her foot, that I might not see it;—but I saw it +all."</p> + +<p>The twilight had deepened in the little parlour, and +its inmates could not perfectly distinguish the features +of each other; but as the lady spoke, the soul of Edward +Fen-wick glowed within him—his heart throbbed—his +breathing became thick—the sweat burst upon +his brow. "Pardon me, lady!" he cried, in agony; +"but, oh! tell me your name?"</p> + +<p>"Fen-wick, sir," replied she.</p> + +<p>"Eleanor! my injured Eleanor!" he exclaimed, flinging +himself at her feet. "I am Edward, your guilty +husband! Mother! can you forgive me? My son! +my son! intercede for your guilty father!"</p> + +<p>Ah, sir, there needed no intercession—their arms +were around his neck—the prodigal was forgiven! +"Behold," continued the narrator, "yonder from the +cottage comes the mother, the wife, and the son of +whom I have spoken! I will introduce you to them—you +shall witness the happiness and the penitence of +the prodigal—you must stop with me to-night. Start +not, sir—I am Edward Fen-wick the Prodigal Son!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LAWYERS_TALES" id="THE_LAWYERS_TALES"></a>THE LAWYER'S TALES.</h2> + +<h3>THE WOMAN WITH THE WHITE MICE.</h3> + + +<p>Many have, doubtless, both heard and read of the case +of murder in which Jeffrey performed his greatest feat +of oratory and power over a jury, and in which, while +engaged in his grand speech of more than six hours, +he caught, from an open window, the aphony which +threatened to close up his voice for ever afterwards. +I have had occasion to notice the wants in reported +cases tried before courts; and in reference to the one +I have now mentioned, I have reason, from my inquiries, +to know that the most curious details of the +transaction are not only not to be found in the report, +but not even suggested, if they do not, in some particulars, +appear to be opposed to the public testimony. +The agent of the panel sits behind the counsel, delivering +to him sometimes very crude materials for the +defence, and the counsel sifts that matter; sometimes +taking a handful of the chaff to blind a juryman or +a judge, but more often casting it away as either useless +or dangerous. In that unused chaff there are often +pickles not of the kind put into the sack, and again +laid as an offering before the blind goddess, but of +a different kind of grain—nor often less pleasant, or, +if applied, less acceptable to justice.</p> + +<p>In a certain month in the year 18—, a writer in +Dundee, of the name of David M——, was busy in +his office, in a dark street off the High Street—busy, +no doubt, in discharging the functions of that office<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +represented by Ĉsop as occupied by a monkey, holding +the scales between the litigating cats. He heard +a horse stop at his office door, as if brought suddenly +up by a jerk of the rein.</p> + +<p>"There is haste here," he thought; "what is up?"</p> + +<p>And presently the door opened, and there came, +or rather rushed, in a man, of the appearance of a +country farmer, greatly more excited than these douce +men generally are—except, perhaps, in the midst of a +plentiful harvest-home—splashed up with mud to the +back of the neck, and breathing as hard as, no doubt, +the horse was that carried him.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Mr. S——?" inquired the writer, as he +looked at his client.</p> + +<p>"A dreadful business!" replied he; and he turned, +went back to the door, shut it, and tested the hold +of the lock; then laying down his hat and whip, and +pulling off his big-coat, he drew a chair so near the +writer, that the man of law, <i>brusque</i> and even jolly +as he was, instinctively withdrew his, as if he feared +an appeal for money.</p> + +<p>"What is the business?" again asked the writer, as +he saw the man in a spasmodic difficulty to begin.</p> + +<p>"We are all ruined at D——!" he at length said; +"Mrs. S—— is in your jail, hard by, on a charge of +murder."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. S——! of all the women in the world!" ejaculated +the writer in unfeigned amazement: "murder of +whom?"</p> + +<p>"Of a servant at D——," replied Mr. S——; "one +of our own women."</p> + +<p>"And what could be the motive?"</p> + +<p>"The young woman," continued S——, "had been +observed to be pregnant, and the report was got up +that my son was the party responsible and blameable.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +Then the charge is, that my wife gave the girl poison, +either to procure abortion, or to take away her life. +The woman is dead and buried; but, I believe, her +body has been taken up out of the grave and examined, +and poison found in the stomach."</p> + +<p>"An ugly account," said the writer. "I mean not +ugly as regards the evidence, of which, as yet, I have +heard nothing. I could say beforehand that I don't +believe the authorities will be able to bring home an +act of this kind to so rational and respectable a woman, +as I have known Mrs. S——to be; but if you wish +me to get her off, you must allow me to look at the +case as if she were guilty."</p> + +<p>"Guilty!" echoed the man, with a shudder.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Were I to go fumbling about in an affair +of this kind, acting upon a notion—whatever I may +think or feel—that Mrs. S——, though your wife, +<i>could not</i> possibly do an act of that kind, I would +neither hound up, as I ought, the investigations of +the prosecutor, nor get up proper evidence—not to +meet their proofs only, but to overturn them."</p> + +<p>"I would have thought you would have been keener +to get off an innocent person—a wife, and the mother +of a family, too—than a guilty one," said S——.</p> + +<p>"We cannot get you people to understand these +things," replied the writer; "but so it is, at least with +me, and I rather think a good number of my brethren. +We have a pride in getting off a guilty person; whereas +we have only a spice of satisfaction in saving an innocent +one. Perhaps I have an object, for your own +sake, in speaking thus frankly to you; and I tell you +at once, that if you intend to help me to get off your +wife, you must, as soon as you can—even here, at this +moment—renounce all blind confidence in her innocence."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Terrible condition!" said the farmer.</p> + +<p>"Not pleasant, but useful. How, in God's name, +am I to know how to doctor, purge, or scarify, or +anoint a testimony against you, unless I know that it +exists, and where to find it?"</p> + +<p>"Very true," rejoined the farmer, trying to follow +the clever "limb."</p> + +<p>"Don't hesitate. I will have more pleasure, and not, +maybe, much less hope, in hearing you detail all the +grounds of your suspicion against your wife, than in +listening to your nasaling and canting about her innocence. +All this is for your good, my dear sir, take it +as you will."</p> + +<p>"I believe it," said the farmer, "and will try to act +up to what you say; but I cannot, of my own knowledge, +say much, as yet. These things are done +privately, within the house, and a farmer is mostly out +of doors."</p> + +<p>"Well, away, get access to your wife, ferret everything +out of her, as well for her as against her. If she +bought poison, where she bought it, what rats were to +be poisoned, how it was applied, how she communicated +with the girl, and where, and all, and everything you +can gather. Question your servants all they saw or +heard; your son, what he has to say; ascertain who +came about the house, how affected towards the girl, +whether there were more lovers than your son, whether +the girl was melancholy, or hopeful, and likely to do +the thing or not; but, above all, keep it ever in view +that your wife is in prison, and suspected, and let me +know every item you can bring against her. Away, +and lose no time, for I see it's a matter of neck and +neck between her and the prosecutor, and, consequently, +neck and noose, or neck and no noose, between her +and the hangman."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<p>Utterly confounded by this array of instructions, the +poor farmer sat and looked blank. It was impossible +he could remember all he had been requested to do; +and the duty of finding out facts to criminate the wife +who had lived with him so long in love and confidence, +bore down upon him with a weight he could hardly +sustain.</p> + +<p>"I will do what I can," he said.</p> + +<p>"You must do <i>more</i> than you can," said the writer; +"but, again I say, let me know every, the smallest item +you can discover against your wife."</p> + +<p>And, thus charged, Mr. S—— mounted his horse, +and rode home to a miserable house with a miserable +heart.</p> + +<p>Extraordinary as the case was, it was entrusted to +the charge of an extraordinary man, well remembered +yet throughout that county, and much beyond it. In +personal respects he was strong, broad, and muscular, +with a florid countenance never out of humour, and an +eye that flashed in so many different directions, that it +was impossible to arrest it for two moments at a time. +All action, nothing resisted him; all impulse and sensibility, +nothing escaped his observation; yet no one +could say that any subject retained his mind for more +time than would have sufficed another merely to glance +at it. He could speak to a hundred men in a day upon +a hundred topics, and sit down and run off twenty +pages of a paper without an hour of previous meditation; +break off at a pronoun, at a call to the further +end of the town; drink as much in a few minutes' conversation +with a client as would have taken another an +hour to enjoy, and return and finish his paper in less +time than another would take to think of it. Always, +to appearance, off his guard, he was always master of +his position, nor could any obstacle make him stand and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +calculate its dimensions—it must be surmounted or +broken, if his head or the laws should be broken with +it; always pressing, he never seemed to be impressed, +and the gain or loss of a case was equally indifferent to +him. His passion was action, his desire money; but +the money went as it came—made without effort and +spent without reason. Yet no man hated him; most +loved him; few admired him; and even those he might +injure by his apparent recklessness could not resist the +good nature by which he warded off every attack.</p> + +<p>He saw at once, after he had dismissed S——, that +he had got hold of a desperate case, and also that he +behoved to have recourse to desperate means; but it +seemed to take no grip of his mind for more than a +few minutes, by the end of which he was full swing in +some other matter of business, to be followed with the +same rapidity by something else, and, probably, after +that, pleasure till three in the morning, when he would +be carried home to an elegant house in a certain species +of carriage with one wheel. Nor had even that consummation +any effect on to-morrow's avocations, for +which he would be ready at the earliest hour; and in +this case he <i>was</i> ready. He set about his inquiries, +first proceeded to D—— to get a view of the premises—the +room where the young woman lay, where the +son slept, and the bedroom of the mother—and ascertain +whether the premises permitted of intercourse with +the servants unknown to the farmer and his wife. He +next began his precognition of those connected with the +house, and, on returning to town, procured access to +Mrs. S——.</p> + +<p>The jail of Dundee was at that time over the courthouse, +a miserable den of a few dark rooms, presenting +the appearance of displenished garrets, with small +grated windows and a few benches. Here the woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +sat revolving, no doubt, in her mind all the events of a +life of comfort and respectability, and now under the +risk of being brought to a termination by her body +being suspended in the front of that building where +she had seen before this terrible consummation of +justice enacted with the familiar and dismal forms of +the tragedy of the gallows. We write of these things +as parrots gabble, we read of them as monkeys ogle the, +to them, strange actions of human beings; but what is +all that comes by the eye or the ear of the experiences +of an exterior spirit to the workings of that spirit in +its own interior world, where thought follows thought +with endless ramifications, weaving and interweaving +scenes of love and joy and pain, contrasting and mixing, +dissolving and remixing—bright lights and dark shadows—all +seen through the blue-tinged and distorting lens +of present shame? We cannot realize these things, nor +did the writer try. He had only the practical work to +do—if possible, to get this woman's neck kept out of a +kench; nor did it signify much to him how that was +effected; but effected it would be, if the invention of +one man could do it, and if that failed, and the woman +was suspended, it would trouble him no more than +would the loss of a small-debt case.</p> + +<p>"Sorry to see you in this infernal place, Mrs. S——," +he said, as he threw himself upon a bench. "I must +get you out, that's certain; but I can promise you that +certainty only upon the condition of making a clean +breast—only to me, you know."</p> + +<p>"I know only that I never poisoned the woman," +replied she.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to be hanged?" said he, with the +reckless abruptness so peculiar a feature of his character, +at the same time taking a rapid glance of her +demeanour. He knew all about the firmness derived<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +from the confidence of innocence, of which a certain +class of rhapsodists make so much in a heroic way, and +yet he had always entertained the heterodoxical notion +that guilt is a firmer and often more composed condition +than innocence, inasmuch as his experience led +him to know that the latter is shaky, anxious, and +sensitive, and the former stern and imperturbable. +Nor did his quick mind want reasons for showing that +such ought, by natural laws, to be the case; for it is +never to be lost sight of, that, in so far as regards +murder, which requires for its perpetration a peculiar +form of mind and a most unnatural condition of the +feelings, the same hardness of nerve which enables a +man or woman to do the deed, serves equally well the +purpose of helping them to stand up against the shame, +while the innocent person, in nine hundred and ninety-nine +cases out of a thousand—the probable proportion +of those who <i>cannot</i> kill—has not the fortitude to +withstand the ignominy, simply because he wants the +power to slay. So without in his heart prejudging +the woman, he drew his conclusions, true or false, from +the impassibility of her demeanour. Her answer was +ready——</p> + +<p>"How could they hang an innocent woman?"</p> + +<p>"But they <i>do</i> hang hundreds, who say just what +you say," replied he. "What are you to make of that +riddle? Come, did you ever buy any poison?—please +leave out the rats."</p> + +<p>"No; neither for rats nor servants," was the composed +reply.</p> + +<p>"And you never gave the woman a dose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I have given her medicine more than once."</p> + +<p>"Oh, a capital thing to save life; but you know her +life was not saved. She died and was buried, and has +been taken up; and I suspect it was not your jalap that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +was found in the body. But what interest had you +in being so very kind to the woman who was to +bring shame on your family by bearing a child to +your son?"</p> + +<p>"I never knew she was in that way; but though +I had known it, I could not have taken away her +life."</p> + +<p>"Then, who gave her the poison?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"And cannot even suspect any one?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!" he said, as he started up and hurried +away; muttering to himself, as the jailer undid the +bolts, "Always the same!—the women are always +innocent; and yet we see them stretching ropes other +than clothes' ropes every now and then."</p> + +<p>Defeated, but as little discomfited, as we might gather +from his pithy soliloquy, his next step was to double +up, as he termed it, the authorities, who, he knew, +would never have gone the length of apprehending the +woman without having got hold of evidence sufficient +to justify Sir William Rae, the Lord Advocate, a considerate +and prudent man, that the charge lay heavy +on the prisoner. He had no right of access, at this +stage, to the names of the intended witnesses; but to a +man of his activity it is no difficult matter to find these +out, from the natural garrulity of the people, and a +kind of self-importance in being a Crown testimony. +Then to find them out was next to drawing them out; +for it may be safely said for our writer that there was +no man, from the time of John Wilkes, who could +exercise a more winning persuasion. One by one he +ferreted them out, wheedled, threatened, adjured, but +found himself resisted in every attempt to break them +down or to turn them to him. At every stage of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +inquiry he saw the case for the prisoner assuming a +dark aspect—as dark, he so termed it, as the face of a +hanged culprit.</p> + +<p>"The beagles have got a track. There are more foxes +in the cover than one; and shall it be said I, David M——, +cannot beat out another as stimulating to the nose?"</p> + +<p>In a quarter of an hour after having made this observation +to himself, he was posting on horseback to the +farm of D——, where he arrived in as short a time as +he generally took on his journeys.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid to ask you for intelligence," said the +farmer, as he stood by the horse's side, and addressed +the writer, who kept his seat.</p> + +<p>"Get me two and five-eighths of a glass of whisky +in a jug of milk, and I'll tell you then what I want. I +have no time to dismount."</p> + +<p>The farmer complied.</p> + +<p>"The case looks ugly," said the writer, as he handed +back the jug. "These witnesses would hang a calendared +saint of a hundred miracles. Are any tramps in +the habit of coming about you?"</p> + +<p>"Too many."</p> + +<p>"Do you know any of them?"</p> + +<p>"Scarcely—not by name."</p> + +<p>"Any women?—never mind the men," said the +writer impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Yes; there is one who used to come often; she +sold small things."</p> + +<p>"Is that all you know of her? Has she no mark, +man? Is her nose long or short? no squint, lame +leg, or pock-pits?"</p> + +<p>"She had usually a small cage, in which she kept a +couple of white mice."</p> + +<p>"White mice!" ejaculated the writer; "never was +a better mark."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't know her name?"</p> + +<p>"No; nor do I think any of my present people do."</p> + +<p>"When was she here last?"</p> + +<p>"About a month ago."</p> + +<p>"Anywhere near the time of the girl's death?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, just about that time, or maybe a week before."</p> + +<p>"And you can give me no trace of her?"</p> + +<p>"None whatever, except that I think I saw her take +to the east, in the way to Arbroath. But I do not see +how she can be of any use."</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to see that she can be of any +use," said the writer, laughing; "but I want you to +hear whereabout she is."</p> + +<p>"I will try what I can," said the farmer.</p> + +<p>"And let me know by some messenger who can ride +as fast as I can." Then adding, "Gilderoy was saved +by a <i>brown</i> mouse, which gnawed the string by which +the key of the jail door of Forfar hung on a nail, +whereby the key fell to the ground, and was pulled by +him through an opening at the bottom. Heard you +ever the story?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"But it's true, nevertheless. What would you say +if a <i>white</i> mouse, or two of them, should save the life +of your wife?"</p> + +<p>"I would say it was wonderful," replied the farmer, +with eyes a-goggled by amazement.</p> + +<p>"And so would I," answered Mr. M——, as he put +the rowels into the side of his horse and began a hard +trot, which he would not slacken till he was at the +Cowgate port, and not even then, for he made his +way generally through the streets of the town with +equal rapidity, and always the safer that he was the +"fresher."</p> + +<p>On arriving at his office he sat down, and, without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +apparently any premeditation, unless what he had +indulged in during his trot, wrote off with his usual +rapidity four letters to the following effect:—"Dear +Sir,—As agent for Mrs. S——, who now lies in our +jail on a charge of murder, I request you will endeavour +to find some trace of a woman who goes through +the country with a cage and two white mice. Grave +suspicions attach to her, as the person who administered +the poison, and I wish your energies to be employed +in aiding me to search her out." The letters +were directed to agents in Arbroath, Forfar, Kirriemuir, +and Montrose, and immediately committed to a clerk +to be taken to the post-office, with a good-natured +laugh on the lips of the writer—and, within the teeth, +the little monologue—"The wrinkled skin easily conceals +a scar."</p> + +<p>From some source or another, probably the true one +may be guessed, an <i>uberrima fides</i> began to hang round +a report that a new feature had spread over the face +of Mrs. S——'s case; and that, in place of her being +the guilty person, the culprit was a tramp, with white +mice in a cage. Nor were the authorities long in being +startled by the report; but where that woman was no +one could tell, and a vague report was no foundation +for authoritative action. But if it was not for a Lord +Advocate to seek out or hunt after white mice, that +was no reason why the prisoner's agent should not +condescend to so very humble an office; and, accordingly, +two days after the despatch of the letters I have +mentioned, the same horse that carried the writer on +the former occasion, and knew so well the prick of his +rowels, was ready saddled at the door of the office. +The head of the agent was instantly drawn out of some +other deep well of legal truth, some score of directions +given to clerks, and he was off on the road to Glammis,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +but not before some flash had shown him what he was +to do when he got there. The same rapid trot was +commenced, and continued, to the great diminution of +the sap of the animal, until the place he was destined +for loomed before him. He now commenced inquiries +upon inquiries. Every traveller was questioned, every +door got a touch of his whip, until at length he got a +trace, and he was again in full pursuit. I think it is +Suidas who says that these pretty little animals, called +white mice, are very amatory, and have a strong odour, +but this must be only to their mates. I doubt if even +the nostrils of a writer are equal to this perception, +whatever sense they may possess in the case of pigeons +with a pluckable covering. But, however this may be, +it was soon observable that our pursuer had at least +something in his eye. The spurs were active; and, +by and by, he drew up at a small road-side change-house, +into the kitchen of which he tumbled, without +a premonitory question, and there, before him, sat the +veritable mistress of these very white mice, spaeing +the fortunes of some laughing girls, who saw the illuminated +figures of their lovers in the future.<a name="FNanchor_1_" id="FNanchor_1_"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_" id="Footnote_1_"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> One version of the story says that Mr. M—— picked up the +tramp at Cammerton, in Fife; but I adhere to my authority.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p></div> + +<p>"Can you read me <i>my</i> fortune?" he said, in his own +peculiar way.</p> + +<p>"Na; I ken ye owre weel," was the quick reply, as +she turned a pair of keen, grey eyes on him.</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll speak to me at any rate," he said. "I +have something to say to you."</p> + +<p>And, going into the adjoining parlour, he called for +a half-mutchkin. He needed some himself, and he +knew the tramp was not an abstainer.</p> + +<p>"Tell the woman to come ben," he said, as the man +placed the whisky on the table.</p> + +<p>"What can you want, Mr. M——, with that old, +never-mend vagabond?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps an uncle has left her five hundred pounds," +said the writer with a chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Gude save us! the creature will go mad," said the +man, as he went out, not knowing whether his guest +was in humour or earnest.</p> + +<p>But, whatever he said to the woman, there she was, +presently, white mice and all, seated alongside of the +writer, who could make a beggar or a baron at home +with him, with equal ease, and in an equally short +time.</p> + +<p>"You're obliged to me, I think, if I can trust to a +pretty long memory," he said, handing her a glass of +the spirits.</p> + +<p>"Ay; but it doesna need a lang memory to mind +gi'en me this," she replied, not wishing any other reason +for her obligation.</p> + +<p>"And you've forgotten the pirn scrape?"</p> + +<p>"The deil's in a lang memory; but I hinna," she +replied, with more confidence, for by this time the +whisky had disappeared in the accustomed bourne of +departed spirits.</p> + +<p>"Weel, it's a bad business that at your auld freend's +at D——," said he, getting into his Scotch, for familiarity. +"Hae ye heard?"</p> + +<p>"Wha hasna heard? I kenned the lassie brawly; +but I didna like her—she was never gude to a puir +cratur like me."</p> + +<p>"But they say ye ken mair than ither folk?" said +he.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I do," replied the woman, getting proud of +the impeachment. "Hae we nae lugs and een, ay, +and stamachs, like ither folk?"</p> + +<p>"And could ye do naething to save this puir woman,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +the wife o' a gude buirdly man, wi' an open hand to +your kin, and the mither o' a family?"</p> + +<p>"I care naething about her being the wife o' a man, +or the mither o' a family; but I ken what I ken."</p> + +<p>"And sometimes what ye dinna ken, when you tell +the lasses o' their lovers ye never saw."</p> + +<p>"The deil tak their louping hearts into his hand for +silly gawkies; if they werena a' red-wood about lads, +they wadna heed me a whistle. But though I might +try to get Mrs. S——'s head out o' the loop, I wadna +like to put my ain in."</p> + +<p>"I'll tak gude care o' that," said the writer. "I got +ye out o' a scrape before."</p> + +<p>"Weel than——"</p> + +<p>"And weel than," echoed he.</p> + +<p>"And better than weel than; suppose I swore I did +it mysel'—and maybe I did; that's no your business—they +wadna hang a puir wretch like me for her ain +words, wad they, when there's nae proof I did it but +my ain tongue?"</p> + +<p>"No likely," replied he; "and then a hunder gowden +guineas as a present, no as a bribe——"</p> + +<p>"I want nae bribes—I gie value for my fortunes. +If it's wind, wind is the breath o' life; a present!"</p> + +<p>"Would make your een jump," added he, finishing +his sentence.</p> + +<p>"Jump! ay, loup! Whar are they?"</p> + +<p>"You'll get the half when you come into the town, +and the other when Mrs. S——is safe. You will ca' +at my office on Wednesday; and, after that, I'll tak +care o' you. In the meantime, ye maun sell your +mice."</p> + +<p>"Geordie Cameron offered me five shillings for them; +I'll gie them to him."</p> + +<p>"No," replied the writer; "no to a <i>man</i>. Ken ye<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +nae woman-tramp will tak them, and show them about +as you do?"</p> + +<p>"Ou ay; I'll gie them to Meg Davidson, wha's to +be here the night. But whaurfor no Geordie?"</p> + +<p>"Never ye mind that, I ken the difference; and if +Meg doesna give you the five shillings, I will."</p> + +<p>"Well, buy them yoursel'," said the woman.</p> + +<p>"Done," said he; "there's five guineas for them, and +you can gie them to Meg as a present. Now, are ye firm?"</p> + +<p>"Firm!" she cried, as she clutched the money, and +gave a shrill laugh, from a nerve that was never softened +by pity or penitence. "I think nae mair on't, man—sir, +I mean, for ye proved yoursel' a gentleman to me +afore—than I do now in spaeing twins to your wife at +her next doun-lying."</p> + +<p>A rap on the table, from the bottom of the pewter +measure, brought in the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Fill that again," said the writer.</p> + +<p>And the man having re-entered with the pewter +measure——</p> + +<p>"You're to give this woman board and lodging for a +day or two, and I will pay you before I start."</p> + +<p>"That will be oot o' the five hundred frae her uncle," +said the man, laughing. "She's my lady noo; but +what will become o' the mice?"</p> + +<p>"There's Meg Davidson passing the window e'en +noo," said the woman.</p> + +<p>"Send her in," said the writer to the change-house +keeper.</p> + +<p>The woman going under this name was immediately +introduced by the man, with a kind of mock formality; +for he could not get quit of the impression that his old +customer had really succeeded to the five hundred +pounds—a sum, in his estimation, sufficiently large to +insure respect.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Maggy," said the writer, "tak this chair, and here's +a dram. What think ye?"</p> + +<p>"I dinna ken."</p> + +<p>"Ye're to get the twa white mice and the cage for +naething, and this dram to boot."</p> + +<p>Meg's face cleared up like a June sun come out in a +burst.</p> + +<p>"Na," she said; "ye're joking."</p> + +<p>"But it's upon a condition," rejoined he.</p> + +<p>"Weel, what is't—that I'm to feed them weel, and +keep them clean?"</p> + +<p>"You'll do that too," said he, laughing, "for they're +valuable creatures, and bonny; but you're to say +you've had them for a year."</p> + +<p>"For twa, if you like," replied the woman; "a puir +fusionless lee that, and no worth sending a body to the +deil for."</p> + +<p>"Here they are," said the tramp; "and you're to tak +care o' them. They've been my staff for mony a day, +and they're the only creatures on earth I care for and +like; for they never said to me, 'Get out, ye wretch,' +or banned me for a witch; but were aye sae happy wi' +their pickles o' barley, and maybe a knot o' sugar, when +I could get at a farmer's wife's bowl."</p> + +<p>Even hags have pathetic moods. Meg was affected; +and the writer, having appreciated the virtue, whispered +in the ear of his <i>protegée</i>, "Seven o'clock on Wednesday +night," and left them to the remainder of the whisky. +At the door he settled with the man, and, mounting his +horse, which he had ordered a bottle of strong ale for, +in addition to his oats, he set off at his old trot.</p> + +<p>"Now let the Crown blood-hounds catch Meg Davidson +and her mice," he said, as he pushed on.</p> + +<p>The writer was, no doubt, bent eagerly for home, +but he seldom got to his intended destination, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +we have given one or two examples of an uninterrupted +course, without undergoing several stoppages, either +from the sudden calls of business, which lay in every +direction, or the seductions of conviviality, equally +ubiquitous; and on this occasion he was hailed from the +window of the inn by some ten-tumbler men of Forfar, +whose plan for draining the loch, by making toddy of +it, had not, to their discomfort, been realized, but who +made due retaliation by very clean drainings elsewhere. +The moment he heard the shout he understood the +meaning thereof, because he knew the house, the +locality, and the men; and Meg Davidson and her mice +were passed into the wallet-bag of time, till he should +give these revellers their satisfaction in a boon companion +who could see them under the table, and then +mount his horse, with a power of retention of his seat +unexampled in a county famous for revolutions of heads +as well as of bodies. Dismounting from his horse, he +got his dinner, a meal he had expected at Dundee; and, +in spite of the distance of fourteen miles which lay before +him, he despatched tumbler after tumbler without +being once tempted to the imprudence of letting out +his extraordinary hunt, but rather with the prudence +of sending, through his compotators, to the county town +the fact that a woman who perambulated the country +with white mice was really the murderer of the country +girl. This statement he was able to make, even at that +acme of his dithyrambics, when, as usual, he got +upon the head of the table to make his speech of the +evening. It was now eleven, and he had swallowed +eight tumblers, yet he was comparatively steady when +he mounted; and, though during the fourteen miles +he swung like a well-ballasted barque in a gale of wind, +he made sufficient headway to be home by half-past +twelve.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>Next morning, as ready and able as usual for the +work of the day, he was at his desk about eleven, and +when engaged with one client, while others were waiting +to be despatched in the way in which he alone +could discharge clients, he was waited on by a gentleman +connected with the Crown Office. Having been +yielded a preference, the official took his seat.</p> + +<p>"I understand you are employed for Mrs. S——?" +he said. "We have thought it necessary, as disinterested +protectors of the lives of the king's subjects, +to apprehend this woman. I need not say that our +precognitions are our guarantee; but I have heard a +report which would seem to impugn our discretion, if +it do not shame our judgment, insomuch that, if it be +true, we have seized the wrong person. Do you know +anything of this woman with the white mice, who takes +upon herself the burden of a self-accusation? Of +course it is for you to help us to her as the salvation +of your client."</p> + +<p>"Too evident that for a parade of candour," replied +Mr. M——. "Her name is Margaret Davidson. Her +white companions will identify her. Her residence is +where you may chance to find her."</p> + +<p>"Very vague, considering your interest," replied the +other. "Where did you find her?"</p> + +<p>"Ask me first, my dear sir, whether I have found +her. Perhaps not. If it is my interest to search her +out, it is not less your duty to catch her. A vagrant +with white mice is a kenspeckle, and surely you can +have no difficulty in tracing her. I need scarcely add, +that when you do find her, you will substitute her for +my client, and make amends for the disgrace you have +brought upon an innocent woman and a respectable +family."</p> + +<p>"I won't say that," replied the other, shaking his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +head. "The evidence against Mrs. S—— is too heavy +to admit of our believing a vagrant, influenced by the +desire of, perhaps, a paid martyrdom, or the excitement +of a mania."</p> + +<p>"Then, why ask me to help you to find her?"</p> + +<p>"For our satisfaction as public officers."</p> + +<p>"And to my detriment as a private agent."</p> + +<p>"Not at all."</p> + +<p>"Yes; if I choose to make her a witness for the defence, +and leave the jury to judge of <i>paid</i> martyrdom, +or her real madness. Paid martyrdom!—paid by +whom?"</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily by you."</p> + +<p>"But you want me to help you to be able to prove +the bribe out of her own mouth, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course we would examine her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and cook her; but you must catch her first. +Really, my dear sir, a very useful recipe in cuisine; +and, hark ye, you can put the mice in the pan also. +But, really, I am not bound, and cannot in justice be +expected to do more. I have given you her name; +and when had a culprit so peculiar and striking a +designation as being the proprietor of a peripatetic +menagerie?"</p> + +<p>"Ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>ridiculus mus</i>! But are you not the labouring +mountain yourself, and do you not wish me to become +the midwife?"</p> + +<p>"I perceive I can make nothing of you," at length +said the gentleman. "You either don't want to save +your client, or the means you trust to cannot stand the +test."</p> + +<p>"God bless my soul!" roared the writer; "must I +tell you again that I have given you her name and +occupation? Even a cat, with nose-instinct put awry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +by the colour of the white race of victims, would smell +her out."</p> + +<p>Bowing the official to the door with these words, he +was presently in some other ravelled web, which he +disentangled with equal success and apparent ease; but, +following him in his great scheme, we find him in the +afternoon posting again to the farm. He found the +farmer in the same collapse of hope, sitting in the arm-chair +so long pressed by his wife, with his chin upon +his breast, and his eyes dim and dead. The evidence +had got piece by piece to his ear, paralyzing more and +more the tissues of his brain; and hope had assumed +the character of an impossibility in the moral world of +God's government.</p> + +<p>"You must cheer up," said the writer. "Come, +some milk and whisky. Move about; I have got good +news for you, but cannot trust you."</p> + +<p>The head of the man was raised up, and a slight +beam was, as it were, struck from his eye by the jerk +of a sudden impulse. His step, as he moved to gratify +the agent, seemed to have acquired even a spring.</p> + +<p>"Why are you here," he said, as he brought the indispensable +jug, with something even more than the +five-eighths of the spiritual element added to the two +glasses, "if you cannot tell me the grounds of my hope? +I could not comprehend what you meant about the +woman and the white mice."</p> + +<p>"Nor do I want you to understand it; it is enough +if I do," replied Mr. M——, as he put the jug to his +mouth; "but this I want you to understand, in the +first place, that I want an order for fifty pounds from +you."</p> + +<p>The farmer was too happy to write an order for any +amount within the limits of his last farthing, and getting +pen and ink, he wrote the cheque.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you couldn't tell me the name of the woman +with the mice; but I can tell you," he continued. +"It is Margaret Davidson; and, hark ye—come near +me, man—if you are called upon by any one with the +appearance of a sheriff's beagle, or whatever he may be +like, for the name of that woman, say it is Margaret +Davidson, and that they will find her between Lerwick +and Berwick. Do you comprehend?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"And, moreover, you are to tell every living soul +within ear-shot, servants or strangers, that it was that +very woman who gave the dose to the lass, and that the +woman herself does not deny it."</p> + +<p>"Gude Lord! but is all this true, Mr. M——?"</p> + +<p>"Is it true your wife did it, then, you d——d idiot?" +cried the writer, using thus one of his most familiar +terms, but with perfect good-nature. "Don't you in +your heart—or hope, at any rate—think the Lord +Advocate a liar? and has his lordship a better right to +lie than I or Meg Davidson? Isn't the world a great +leavened lump of lies from the Cape of Good Hope to +the Cape of Wrath? And you want your wife hanged, +because the nose of truth is out of joint a bit! Ay, what +though it were cut off altogether, if you get your wife's +back without being coloured blue by the hangman? +But, I tell you, it's not a lie: the woman with the +white mice says it of her own accord."</p> + +<p>"Wonderful! the woman with the white mice!"</p> + +<p>"The woman with the white mice!" echoed the +writer.</p> + +<p>And, getting again upon his legs, he hurried out, +throwing back his injunctions upon S—— to obey his +instructions. In a few minutes more he was again +upon the road, leaving the clatter of his horse's hoofs +to mingle with the confused thoughts of his mystified<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +client. Arrived at the High Street, where, as used to +be said of him, he could not be ten minutes without +having seized some five or six persons by the breast of +the coat, and put as many questions on various matters +of business, just as the thought struck him on the instant, +he pounced upon one, no other than the confidential +clerk of the fiscal.</p> + +<p>"I say, man," seizing and holding him in the usual +way, "have you catched the woman yet?"</p> + +<p>"What woman?" replied the clerk.</p> + +<p>"The woman with the white mice."</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried the young man, "we have no faith in +that quarter—a mere get-up; but we're looking about +for her, notwithstanding."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell your master that Meg Davidson was last +seen on the Muir of Rannoch, and that the Highlanders +in that outlandish quarter, having never seen white mice +before, are in a state of perfect amazement."</p> + +<p>A bolt at some other person left the clerk probably +in as great amazement as the Highlanders; but our +man of the law did not stop to see the extent of it. +All his avocations, however, did not prevent the coming +round of that seven o'clock on Wednesday evening, +which he had appointed as the hour of meeting with the +woman on whom his hopes of saving his client almost +altogether rested. He was at his desk at the hour, and +the woman, no doubt eager for the phenomenon of the +"louping ee," was as true as the time itself. The writer +locked the door of his office, and drawing her as near +him as possible, inquired first whether any knew she +was in town.</p> + +<p>"Deil are," she replied; "naebody cares for me ony +mair than I were an auld glandered spavin, ready for +the knackers."</p> + +<p>"And you've been remembering a' ye are to say?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, the woman did not answer this question immediately. +She had been, for some days, busy in the +repository of her memory—a crazy box of shattered +spunk-wood, through the crevices of which came the +lurid lights sent from another box, called the imagination, +and such was the close intimacy, or rather mixture, +of the revelations of these two magic centres, that they +could not be distinguished from one another; but the +habit of fortune-telling had so quickened the light of +the one, as to make it predominate over, and almost +extinguish that of the other, so that she was at a loss +to get a stray glimmer of the memory, to make her +ready, on the instant, for the answer.</p> + +<p>"Remembering! Ay," she said, "there's no muckle +to remember. The lass was under the burden of shame, +and couldna bear it: she wanted some doctor's trash to +tak that burden aff her, if it should carry her life alang +wi' 't. I got the stuff, and the woman dee'd."</p> + +<p>All which was carefully written down—but the writer +had his own way of doing his work. He would have day +and date, the place where the doctor's trash was bought, +the price thereof, the manner of administering the same, +and many other particulars, every one of which was so +carefully recorded, that the whole, no doubt, looked like +a veritable precognition of facts, got from the said box +called the memory, as if it had been that not one tint of +light, from the conterminous chamber, had mixed with +the pure spirit of truth.</p> + +<p>"Now," said he, "regaining his English, when his +purpose was served, "you'll stand firm to this, in the +face of judge, jury, justice, and all her angels?"</p> + +<p>"Never ye fear."</p> + +<p>"Then, you will go with me to a private lodging, +where I wish you to remain, seen by as few as you can. +You're a widow; your name is Mrs. Anderson; your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +husband was drowned in the Maelstrom. Get weeds, +a veil, and look respectable."</p> + +<p>"A' save the last, for that's impossible."</p> + +<p>"Try; and, as you will need to pay for your board +and lodgings, and your dress, here's the sum I promised +ye; the other half when Mrs. S—— is saved."</p> + +<p>"A' right; and did I no say my ee would loup?—but +'ae gude turn deserves anither,' as the deil said to +the loon o' Culloden, when he hauled him doun, screaming, +to a place ye maybe ken o', and whaur I hae nae +wish to be."</p> + +<p>"Where is Meg Davidson?" he then asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh ay!" she replied, "that puts me in mind o' a +man wha met me on the road, and asked me if I was +the woman wi' the twa white mice? I tauld him she +was awa east to Montrose, and sae it is."</p> + +<p>"Not a cheep of the sale," added he.</p> + +<p>"Na, na, nor o' ony thing else, but just Mrs. Anderson, +the widow, whase man was drouned in the Maelstream."</p> + +<p>And, having thus finished, the writer led the woman +to her place of safety, there to lie <i>in retentis</i> till the +court-day.</p> + +<p>That eventful day came round. In the meantime, +the prosecution never got access to the real white +mouse tramp, and whatever they got out of Meg +Davidson, satisfied them that she knew nothing of the +murder. Large sums were given to secure the services +of Jeffrey, then in the full blaze of his power, and +Cockburn, so useful in examinations. The Lord Advocate +led his proof, which was no darker than our +writer had ascertained it to be, when he found himself +driven to his clever expedient. The proof for the +defence began; and, after some other witnesses were +examined, the name of the woman with the white mice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +was called by the macer; and here occurred a circumstance, +at the time known to very few. Cockburn turned +round to our country agent, who was sitting behind him, +and said, in a whisper—</p> + +<p>"M——, if the angel Gabriel were at this moment +to come down and blow a trumpet, and tell me that +what this woman is going to swear to is truth, I would +not believe her."</p> + +<p>Nor is there any doubt to be entertained that the +woman's testimony took the court and the audience by +surprise. The judges looked at each other, and the +jury were perplexed. There was only one thing that +produced any solicitude in our writer. He feared the +Lord Advocate would lay hands upon her, as either a +murderer or a perjurer, the moment she left the witness-box. +At that instant was he prepared. Quietly +slipping out, he got hold of the woman, led her to the +outer door, through a crowd, called to the door-keeper, +who stood sentry, to open for the purpose of letting in +a fresh witness of great importance to the accused; and +having succeeded, as he seldom failed, he got the woman +outside. A cab was in readiness—no time lost—the +woman was pushed in, followed by her guardian, and +in a short time was safely disposed of. Meanwhile, +the Crown authorities had been preparing their warrant, +and the woman was only saved from their mercies +by a very few minutes.</p> + +<p>It is well known, as I have already mentioned, that +Jeffrey's speech for Mrs. S—— was the greatest of all +modern orations, yet it was delivered under peculiar +circumstances. When he rose and began, he seemed +languid and unwell. The wonted sparkle was not seen +in his eye, the usually compressed lip was loose and +flaccid, and his words, though all his beginnings were +generally marked with a subdued tone, came with diffi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>culty. +Cockburn looked at him inquiringly, anxious +and troubled. There was something wrong, and those +interested in the defence augured ominously. All of +a sudden the little man stopped, fixed his eye on one +of the walls of the court-room, and cried out, "Shut +that window." Through that opening a cold wind had +been blowing-upon and chilling a body which, though +firm and compact, was thin, wiry, and delicately toned +to the refined requirements of the spirit that animated +and moved it with a grace peculiarly his own. The +chill, in consonance with well-known pathological laws, +produced first depression, and then a feverish reaction, +which latter was even morbidly favourable to the development +of his powers. He began to revive; the +blood, pulsing with more than natural activity, warmed +still more at the call of his enthusiasm. He analyzed +every part of the cause, tore up the characters of the +prosecutor's witnesses, held up microscopic flaws, and +passed them through the lens of his ingenious exaggeration, +till they appeared serious in the eyes of the +jury. Then how touching, if not noble, was the conduct +of that strange witness for the defence—who, a wretched +criminal herself, would yet, under a secret power, so far +expiate her guilt by offering herself as a sacrifice for +innocence! Beyond all was the pathos of his peroration, +where he brought home the case to the jury, as loving +husbands of loving wives, and tender fathers of beloved +children. A woman sat there before them—a wife and +a mother. She had undergone an ordeal not much less +trying than death itself, and even then she was trembling +under the agony of suspense, extended beyond mortal +powers of endurance—to be terminated by the breath +of their mouths, either for life and a restoration to a +previously happy family, or for a death on a gallows, +with all its ignominy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>That speech, which nearly cost Jeffrey his life, saved +that of another. The jury found the libel not proven; +Mrs. S—— was free; Jeffrey was made more famous; +but no one ever heard more of the woman with the white +mice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GLEANINGS_OF_THE_COVENANT" id="GLEANINGS_OF_THE_COVENANT"></a>GLEANINGS OF THE COVENANT.</h2> + +<h3>THE EARLY DAYS OF A FRIEND OF THE COVENANT.</h3> + + +<p>I was born in the upper district and amidst the mountains +of Dumfriesshire. My father, who died ere I had +attained my second birthday, had seen better times; but, +having engaged in mercantile speculations, had been +overreached or unfortunate, or both, and during the +latter years of his life had carried a gun, kept an +amazing pointer bitch (of which my mother used to +discourse largely), and had ultimately married in a fit +of despondency. My mother, to whom he had long +been affianced, was nearly connected with the Lairds +of Clauchry, of which relationship she was vain; and +in all her trials, of which she had no ordinary share, +she still retained somewhat of the feelings, as well as +the appearance of a gentlewoman. I remember, for +example, a pair of high-heeled red Morocco shoes, +overhung by the ample drapery of a quilted silk gown, +in which habiliments she appeared on great occasions. +Soon after my father's decease, my mother found it +convenient and advisable to remove from the neighbourhood +of the Clauchry to a cottage, or cottier as it +was called, on her brother's farm, in the upper division +of the parish of Closeburn.</p> + +<p>Few situations could be better fitted for the purpose +of a quiet and sequestered retreat. The scene is now +as vividly before me as it was on that day when I last +saw it, and felt that, in all probability, I viewed it for +the last time. A snug kailyard, surrounded by a full<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>grown +bushy hedge of bourtree, saugh, and thorn, lay +along the border of a small mountain stream, and hard +by a thatched cottage, with a peat-stack at the one end +and a small byre at the other. All this was nestled as +it were in the bosom of mountains, which, to the north +and the east in particular, presented a defence against +all winds, and an outline of bold grandeur exceedingly +impressive. The south and the west were more open; +consequently the mid-day and afternoon sun reposed, +with delightful and unobstructed radiance, on the green +border of the stream, and the flowery foliage of the brae. +And when the evening was calm, and the season suitable, +the blue smoke winded upwards, and the birds +sang delightfully amidst hazel, and oak, and birch, with +a profusion of which the eastern bank was covered. It +was here that I spent my early days; and it was in this +scene of mountain solitude, with no immediate associate +but my mother, and for a few years of my existence +my grandmother, that my "feelings and fortunes were +formed and shaped out."</p> + +<p>To be brought up amidst mountain scenery, apart +and afar from the busy or polluted haunts of man; to +place one's little bare foot, with its first movement, on +the greensward, the brown heath, or in the pure stream; +to live in the retired glen, a perceptible part of all that +lives and enjoys; to feel the bracing air of freedom in +every breeze; to be possessed of elbow room from ridge +to summit, from bank to brae,—this is, indeed, the most +delightful of all infant schools, and, above all, prepares +the young and infant mind for enlarged conception and +resolute daring.</p> + +<p> +"To sit on rocks; to muse o'er flood and fell;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,</span><br /> +Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And mortal foot hath ne'er or seldom been;</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><br /> +To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With the wild flock that never needs a fold;</span><br /> +Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This is not solitude—'tis but to hold</span><br /> +Converse with Nature's God, and see his works unrolled."<br /> +</p> + +<p>Here, indeed, are the things that own not the dominion +of man! The everlasting hills, in their outlines of rock +and heath; the floods that leap in freedom, or rush in +defiance from steep to steep, from gullet to pool, and +from pool to plain; the very tempest that overpowers; +and heaven, through which the fowls of air sail with +supreme and unchallenged dominion,—all these inspire +the young heart with independence and self-reliance. +True it is that the child, and even the boy, reflects not +at all on the advantages of his situation; and this is the +very reason that his whole imagination and heart are +under their influence. He that is ever arresting and +analyzing the current of his thoughts, will seldom think +correctly; and he who examines with a microscopic eye +the sources of beauty and sublimity, will seldom feel +the full force and sway of such impressions. Early and +lasting friendships are the fruit of accident, rather than +of calculation—of feeling, rather than of reflection; and +the circumstances of scenery and habit, which modify the +child, and give a bent, a bias, and a character to the +after-life, pass all unestimated in regard to such tendency +at the time. The bulrush is not less unconscious +of the marsh which modifies its growth, or the wallflower +of the decay to which it clings, and by which +alone its nature and growth would be most advantageously +marked and perfected, than is the mountain child +of that moral as well as physical development, which +such peculiar circumstances are calculated to effect. If, +through all the vicissitudes and trials of my past life, I +have ever retained a spirit of independence, a spirit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +which has not, as the sequel (which I may yet give) +will evince, proved at all times advantageous to my +worldly advancement—if such has been the case, I owe +it, in a great measure, to the impression which the home +of my youth was calculated to make.</p> + +<p>My mother had originally received a better education +than in those days was customary with individuals of +her class; and, in addition to this advantage, she had +long acted as housekeeper to an unmarried brother, the +minister of a parish in Galloway. In this situation, she +had access to a large and well-chosen library; and at +leisure intervals had improved the opportunity thus +presented. She was quite familiar with Young, and +Pope, and Dryden, as well as with Tate's translation of +Ovid's Epistles. These latter, in particular, she used to +repeat to me during the winter evenings, with a tone of +plaintiveness which I felt at the time, and the impression +of which can never be obliterated. From these early +associations and impressions I am enabled to deduce a +taste for poetry, which, while it has served to beguile +many an otherwise unsupportable sorrow, has largely +contributed to the actual enjoyments of life. There +are, indeed, moments of sadness and of joy, to which +poetry can bring neither alleviation nor zest; but +these, when compared with the more softening shadings, +are but rare; and when the intensity of grief or +of delight has yielded, or is in the act of yielding, to +time or reflection, it is then, in the gloaming or the +twilight, as darkness passes into light, or light into +darkness, that the soothing and softening notes of poesy +come over the soul like the blessed south.</p> + +<p>In religion, or rather in politics—in as far, at least, +as they are interwoven with and inseparable from the +Presbyterian faith—my mother was a staunch Covenanter. +Nor was it at all surprising that one whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +forefathers had suffered so severely in defence of the +Covenant, and in opposition to oppression, should +imbibe their sentiments. Her maternal grandfather +had suffered at the Gallowlee; and her grandmother, +who refused to give information to Clavers respecting +the retreat of her husband, had her new-born babe +plucked from her breast, dashed upon the floor, and +the very bed, from which, to rescue her babe, she had +sprung, pierced and perforated in a thousand places by +the swords of the ruffians. Whilst this tragedy was +enacting within doors, and in what, in these simple +times, was denominated the <i>chaumer</i>, her eldest son, a +boy of about twelve years of age, was arrested, and +because he would not, or in all probability could not, +disclose his father's retreat, he was blindfolded, tied to +a tree, and taught to expect that every ball which he +heard whizzing past his ear was aimed at his head. +The boy was left bound; and, upon his being released +by a menial, it was discovered that his reason had fled—and +for ever! He died a few years afterwards, being +known in the neighbourhood by the name of the Martyred +Innocent! I have often looked at the bloody +stone (for such stains are well known to be like those +upon Lady Macbeth's hand, indelible,) where fell, after +being perforated by a brace of bullets, Daniel M'Michael, +a faithful witness to the truth, whose tomb, with its +primitive and expressive inscription, is still to be seen +in the churchyard of Durisdeer. Grierson of Lag made +a conspicuous figure in the parish of Closeburn in particular; +nor did my mother neglect to point out to me +the ruined tower and the waste domain around it, which +bespoke, according to her creed, the curse of God upon +the seed of the persecutor. His elegy—somewhat +lengthy and dull—I could once repeat. I can now +only recall the striking lines where the Devil is in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>troduced +as lamenting over the death of his faithful +and unflinching ally:—</p> + +<p> +"What fatal news is this I hear?—<br /> +On earth who shall my standard bear?—<br /> +For Lag, who was my champion brave,<br /> +Is dead, and now laid in his grave.<br /> +<br /> +"The want of him is a great grief—<br /> +He was my manager-in-chief,<br /> +Who sought my kingdom to improve;<br /> +And to my laws he had great love," etc.<br /> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>And so on, through at least two hundred lines, composing +a pamphlet, hawked about, in my younger days, +in every huckster's basket, and sold in thousands to +the peasantry of Dumfriesshire and Galloway, at the +price of one penny. Whilst, however, the storm of evil +passions raged with such fury in what was termed the +western districts in particular, the poor, shelterless, and +persecuted Covenanter was not altogether destitute of +help or comfort. According to his own apprehension, +at least, his Maker was on his side; his prayers, offered +up on the mountain and in the cave, were heard and +answered; and a watchful Providence often interfered, +miraculously, both to punish his oppressors, and warn +him against the approach of danger. In evidence of +this, my mother was wont, amongst many others, to +quote the following instances, respecting which she herself +entertained no doubt whatever—instances which, +having never before been committed to paper, have at +least the recommendation of novelty in their favour.</p> + +<p>One of the chief rendezvous of the Covenant was +Auchincairn, in the eastern district of Closeburn. To +this friendly, but, on that account, suspected roof, did +the poor wanderer of the mist, the glen, and the moun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>tain +repair, at dead of night, to obtain what was barely +necessary for the support of nature. Grierson of Lag +was not ignorant of the fact, and accordingly, by a +sudden movement, was often found surrounding the +steading with men and horses before daybreak; yet, +prompt and well arranged as his measures were, they +were never successful. The objects of his search +uniformly escaped before the search was made. And +this singular good fortune was owing, according to my +authority, to the following circumstance. On the night +previous to such an unwelcome visit, a little bird, of a +peculiar feather and note, such as are not to be found +in this country, came, and perching upon the topmost +branch of the old ash tree in the corner of the garden, +poured forth its notes of friendly intimation. To these +the poor skulking friend of the Covenant listened, by +these he was warned, lifted his eyes and his feet to the +mountain, and was safe.</p> + +<p>The curate of Closeburn was eminently active in +distressing his flock. He was one of those Aberdeen +divines whom the wisdom of the Glasgow council had +placed in the three hundred pulpits vacated in consequence +of a drunken and absurd decree. As his church +was deserted, he had had recourse to compulsory measures +to enforce attendance, and had actually dragged +servants and children, in carts and hurdles, to hear his +spiritual and edifying addresses; whilst, on the other +hand, his spies and emissaries were busied in giving +information against such masters and parents as fled +from his grasp, or resisted it. He had even gone so +far, under the countenance and sanction of the infamous +Lauderdale, as to forbid Christian burial in every +case where there was no attendance on his ministry. +Such was the character, and such the conduct of the +man against whom the prayers of a private meeting of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +the friends of Presbytery were earnestly directed on +the following occasion. The eldest son of the guidman +of Auchincairn had paid the debt of nature, and behooved +to be buried with his fathers in the churchyard of the +parish. To this, from the well-known character both +of curate and father, it was anticipated that resistance +would be made. Against this resistance, however, +measures were taken of a somewhat decided character. +The body was to be borne to the churchyard by men +in arms, whilst a part of the attendants were to remain +at home, for the purpose of addressing their Maker in +united prayer and supplication. Thus, doubly armed +and prepared, the funeral advanced towards the church +and manse. Meanwhile the prayer and supplication +were warm, and almost expostulatory, that <i>His</i> arm +might be stretched forth in behalf of His own covenanted +servants. A poor idiot, who had not been +judged a proper person to join in this service, was +heard to approach, and, after listening with great +seeming attention to the strain of the petitions which +were made, he, at length, unable to constrain himself +any longer, was heard to exclaim, "Haud at him, sirs, +haud at him—he's just at the pit brow!" Surprising +as it may appear, and incredulous as some may be, +there is sufficient evidence to prove that, just about +the time when this prediction was uttered, the curate +of Closeburn, whilst endeavouring to head and hurry +on a party of the military, suddenly dropped down and +expired.</p> + +<p>Is it, then, matter of surprise that with my mother's +milk I imbibed a strong aversion to all manner of +oppression, and that, in the broadest and best sense of +the word, I became "a Whig?" To the mountain, +then, and the flood, I owe my spirit of independence—that +shelly-coat covering against which many arrows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +have been directed; to my mother, and her Cameronian +and political bias, I owe my detestation of oppression—in +other words, my political creed—together with my +poetical leanings. But to my venerated grandmother, +in particular, I am indebted for my early acquaintance +with the whole history and economy of the spiritual +kingdoms, divided as they are into bogle, ghost, and +fairy-land.</p> + +<p>I shall probably be regarded as an enthusiast whose +feelings no future evidence can reclaim from early impressions, +when I express my regret that the dreams +of my infancy and boyhood have fled—those dreams of +dark and bright agency, which shall probably never +again return, to agitate and interest—those dreams +which charmed me in the midst of a spiritual world, +and taught me to consider mere matter as only the +visible and tangible instrument through which spirit +was constantly acting—those dreams which appear as +the shadow and reflection of sacred intimation, and +which serve to guard the young heart, in particular, +from the cold and revolting tenets of materialism. +From the malevolence of him who walks and who +works in darkness—who goes about like a roaring lion +(but, in our climate and country, more frequently like +a bull-dog, or a nondescript bogle), seeking whom he +may terrify—I was taught to fly into the protecting +arms of the omnipotent Jehovah; that no class of beings +could break loose upon another without His high permission; +that the Evil One, under whatever disguise +or shape he might appear, was still restrained and +over-mastered by the Source of all good and of all +safety; whilst with the green-coated fairy, the laborious +brownie, and the nocturnal hearth-bairn, I almost +desired to live upon more intimate and friendly terms!</p> + +<p>How poor, comparatively speaking, are the incidents,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +how uninteresting is the machinery, of a modern fictitious +narrative!—sudden and unlooked-for reappearances +of those who were thought to be dead, discoveries +of substituted births, with various chances and misnomers—"antres +vast, and deserts wild!" One good, +tall, stalking ghost, with its compressed lips and pointed +fingers, with its glazed eye and measured step, is worth +them all! Oh for a real "<i>white lady</i>" under the +twilight of the year seventeen hundred and forty! +When the elegant Greek or warlike Roman walked +abroad or dined at home, he was surrounded by all the +influences of an interesting and captivating mythology—by +nymphs of the oak, of the mountain, and of the +spring—by the Lares and Penates of his fireside and +gateway—by the genius, the Ceres and the Bacchus of +his banquet. When our forefathers contended for religious +and civil liberty on the mountain—when they +prayed for it in the glen, and in the silent darkness of +the damp and cheerless cave—they were surrounded, +not by material images, but by popular conceptions. +The tempter was still in the wilderness, with his suggestions +and his promises; and there, too, was the good +angel, to warn and to comfort, to strengthen and to +cheer. The very fowls of heaven bore on their wing +and in their note a message of warning or a voice of +comforting; and when the sound of psalms commingled +with the swelling rush of the cascade, there were often +heard, as it were, the harping of angels, the commingling +of heavenly with earthly melody. All this was +elevating and comforting precisely in proportion to the +belief by which it was supported; and it may fairly be +questioned whether such men as Peden and Cameron +would have maintained the struggle with so much nerve +and resolution if the sun of their faith had not been +surrounded by a halo—if the noonday of the gospel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +had not shaded away imperceptibly into the twilight of +superstition. In fact, superstition, in its softer and +milder modifications, seems to form a kind of barrier +or fence around the "sacred territory;" and it seldom +if ever fails to happen that, when the outworks are +driven in, the citadel is in danger; when the good old +woman has been completely disabused of her harmless +fancies, she may then aspire to the faith and the +religious comforts of the philosophy of Volney.</p> + +<p>In confirmation of these observations, I may adduce +the belief and life of my nearest relatives. To them, +amidst all their superstitious impressions, religion, +pure and undefiled, was still the main hold—the sheet +anchor, stayed and steadied by which they were enabled +to bear up amidst the turmoils and tempests of life. +To an intimate acquaintance with, and a frequent reading +of the sacred volume, was added, under our humble +roof, family prayer both morning and evening—an +exercise which was performed by mother and daughter +alternately, and in a manner which, had I not actually +thought them inspired, would have surprised me. Those +who are unacquainted with the ancient Doric of our +devotional and intelligent peasantry, and with that +musical accentuation or chant of which it is not only +susceptible, but upon which it is in a manner constructed, +can have but a very imperfect notion of family +prayer, performed in the manner I refer to. Many +there are who smile at that familiarity of address and +homeliness of expression which are generally made use +of; but under that homely address there lie a sincerity +and earnestness, a soothing, arousing, and penetrating +eloquence, which neither in public nor in private prayer +have ever been excelled. Again and again I have felt +my breast swell and my eyes fill whilst the prayer of a +parent was presented at a throne of grace in words<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +to the following purpose:—"Help him, good Lord!" +(speaking in reference to myself), "oh help my puir, +faitherless bairn in the day of frowardness and in the +hour of folly—in the season of forgetfulness and of +unforeseen danger—in trial and in difficulty—in life +and in death. Good Lord, for his sainted father's sake +(who is now, we trust, with Thee), for my puir sake, +who am unworthy to ask the favour, and, far aboon +and above a', for thine own well-beloved Son's sake, +do <i>Thou</i> be pleased to keep, counsel, and support my +puir helpless wean, when mine eyes shall be closed, and +my lips shall be shut, and my hands shall have ceased +to labour. Thou that didst visit Hagar and her child +in the thirsty wilderness—Thou that didst bring thy +servant Joseph from the pit and the miry clay—Thou +that didst carry thy beloved people Israel through a +barren desert to a promised and fruitful land—do Thou +be a husband and a father to me and mine; and oh +forbid that, in adversity or in prosperity, by day or by +night, in the solitude or in the city, we should ever +forget Thee!"</p> + +<p>In an age when, amongst our peasantry in particular, +family prayer is so extensively and mournfully neglected—when +the farmer, the manufacturer, the mechanic, +not to mention the more elevated orders, have ceased to +obey the injunction laid upon all Presbyterian parents +in baptism—it is refreshing to look back to the time +when the taking of the book, as it was termed, returned +as regularly as the rising and the setting of the sun—when +the whole household convened together, morning +and evening, to worship the God of their fathers. In +public worship, as well as in private prayer, there is +much of comforting and spiritual support. It is pleasing, +as well as useful, to unite voice with voice, and +heart with heart; it is consolatory, as well as comfort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>ing, +to retire from the world to commune with one's +heart and be still; but it is not the less delightful and +refreshing to unite in family prayer the charities and +sympathies of life—to come to the throne of mercy and +of pardon in the attitude and capacity of parent and +child, brother and sister, husband and wife, master and +servant, and to express, in the common confession, petition, +and thanksgiving, our united feelings of sinfulness, +resignation, and gratitude.</p> + +<p>Milton paints beautifully the first impressions which +death made upon Eve; and sure I am that, though +conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity, I remember +the time when I was entirely ignorant of death. +I had indeed been informed that I had a father; but as +to any change which had been effected upon him by +death, I was as ignorant as if I had been embowered +from my birth amidst the evergreens of paradise. +Everything around me appeared to be permanent and +undying, almost unchanging. The sun set only to +rise again; the moon waned, and then reappeared, reassured +in strength and repaired in form; the stars, in +their courses, walked steadily and uniformly over my +head; the flowers faded and nourished; the birds exchanged +silence for song; the domestic animals were +all my acquaintances from the dawn of memory. To +me, and to those associated with me, similar events +happened: we ate, drank, went to sleep, and arose +again, with the utmost regularity. I had, indeed, +heard of death as of some inconceivable evil; but, in +my imagination, its operation had no figure. I had +not even seen a dog die; for my father's favourite +Gipsy lived for nine years after his death—a cherished +and respected pensioner. At last, however, the period +arrived when the spell was to be broken for ever—when +I was to be let into the secret of the house of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +corruption, and made acquainted with the change which +death induces upon the human countenance.</p> + +<p>My grandmother had attained a very advanced old +age, yet was she straight in person, and perfect in all +her mental faculties. Her countenance, which I still +see distinctly, was expressive of good-will; and the +wrinkles on her brow served to add a kind of intellectual +activity to a face naturally soft, and even comely. +She had told me so many stories, given me so many +good advices, initiated me so carefully in the elements +of all learning, "the small and capital letters," and, +lastly, had so frequently interposed betwixt me and +parental chastisement, that I bore her as much good-will +and kindly feeling as a boy of seven years could +reasonably be expected to exhibit. True it is, and of +verity, that this kindly feeling was not incompatible +with many acts of annoyance, for which I now take +shame and express regret; but these acts were anything +but malevolent, being committed under the view +of self-indulgence merely. It was, therefore, with +infinite concern that I received the intelligence from +my mother that grannie was, in all probability, on the +point of leaving us, and for ever.</p> + +<p>"Leaving us, and for ever," sounded in my ears like +a dream of the night, in which I had seen the stream +which passed our door swell suddenly into a torrent, +and the torrent into a flood, carrying me, and everything +around me, away in its waters. I felt unassured +in regard to my condition, and was half disposed to +believe that I was still asleep and imagining horrors! +But when my mother told me that the disease which +had for days confined my grandmother to bed would +end in death—in other words, would place her alongside +of my father's grave in the churchyard of Closeburn—I +felt that I was not asleep, but awake to some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +dreadful reality, which was about to overtake us. From +this period till within a few hours of her dissolution, I +kept cautiously and carefully aloof from all intercourse +with my grandmother—I felt, as it were, unwilling to +renew an intercourse which was so certainly, and so +soon, and so permanently to be interrupted; so I betook +myself to the hills, and to the pursuit of all manner of +bees and butterflies. I would not, in fact, rest; and +as I lay extended on my back amidst the heath, and +marked the soft and filmy cloud swimming slowly along, +"making the blue one white," I thought of her who +was dying, and of some holy and happy residence far +beyond the utmost elevation of cloud, or sun, or sky. +Again and again I have risen from such reveries to +plunge myself headlong into the pool, or pursue with +increased activity the winged insects which buzzed and +flitted around me. Strange indeed are the impressions +made upon our yet unstamped, unbiassed nature; and +could we in every instance recall them, their history +would be so unlike our more recent experience, as to +make us suspect our personal identity. I do not remember +any more recent feeling which corresponded +in character and degree with this, whose wayward and +strange workings I am endeavouring to describe; and +yet in this case, and in all its accompaniments, I have +as perfect a recollection of facts, and reverence of feeling, +as if I were yet the child of seven, visited for the +first time with tidings of death.</p> + +<p>My grandmother's end drew nigh, and I was commanded, +or rather dragged, to her bedside. There I +still see her lying, calm, but emaciated, in remarkably +white sheets, and a head dress which seemed to speak +of some approaching change. It was drawn closely +over her brow, and covered the chin up to her lips. +Nature had manifestly given up the contest; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +although her voice was scarcely audible, her reason +evidently continued unclouded and entire. She spoke +to me slowly and solemnly of religion, obedience to my +mother, and being obliging to every one; laid, by my +mother's assistance, her hand upon my head, as I kneeled +at her bedside, and in a few instants had ceased to +breathe. I lifted up my head at my mother's bidding, +and beheld a corpse. What I saw or what I felt, I +can never express in words. I can only recollect that +I sprang immediately, horror-struck, to my feet, rushed +out at the door, made for the closest and thickest part +of the brushwood of the adjoining brae, and, casting +myself headlong into the midst of it, burst into tears. +I wept, nay, roared aloud; my grief and astonishment +were intense whilst they lasted, but they did not last +long; for when I returned home about dusk, I found +a small table spread over with a clean cloth, upon which +was placed a bottle with spirits, a loaf of bread, and +cheese cut into pretty large pieces. Around this table +sat my mother, with two old women from the nearest +hamlet. They were talking in a low but in a wonderfully +cheerful tone, as I thought, and had evidently +been partaking of refreshment. Being asked to join +them, I did so; but ever and anon the white sheet in +the bed, which shaped itself out most fearfully into the +human form, drew my attention, and excited something +of the feeling which a ghost might have occasioned. +I had ceased in a great measure to feel for my grandmother's +death. I now felt the alarms and agitations +of superstition. It was not because she had fled from +us that I was agitated, but because that, though dead, +she still seemed present, in all the inconceivable mystery +of a dead life!</p> + +<p>The funeral called forth, from the adjoining glens +and cottages, a respectable attendance, and at the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +time gave me an opportunity of partaking, unnoticed, +of more refreshment than suited the occasion or my +years; in fact, I became little less than intoxicated, +and was exceedingly surprised at finding myself, towards +evening, in the midst of the same bush where I had experienced +my paroxysm of grief, singing aloud, in all +the exultation of exhilarated spirits. Such is infancy +and boyhood—</p> + +<p> +"The tear forgot, as soon as shed."<br /> +</p> + +<p>I returned, however, home, thoughtful and sad, and +never, but once, thought the house so deserted and +solitary as during that evening.</p> + +<p>My mother was not a Cameronian by communion, +but she was in fact one in spirit. This spirit she had +by inheritance, and it was kept alive by an occasional +visit from "Fairly." This redoubted champion of the +Covenant drew me one day towards him, and, placing +me betwixt his knees, proceeded to question me how I +would like to be a minister; and as I preserved silence, +he proceeded to explain that he did not mean a parish +minister, with a manse and glebe and stipend, but a +poor Cameronian hill-preacher like himself. As he +uttered these last words, I looked up, and saw before +me an austere countenance, and a threadbare black coat +hung loosely over what is termed a hunchback. I had +often heard Fairly mentioned, not only with respect, +but enthusiasm, and had already identified him and his +followers with the "guid auld persecuted folks" of +whom I had heard so much. Yet there was something +so strange, not to say forbidding, in Fairly's appearance, +that I hesitated to give my consent, and continued +silent; whereupon Fairly rose to depart, observing to +my mother, that "my time was not come yet." I did +not then fully comprehend the meaning of this expres<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>sion, +nor do I perhaps now, but it passed over my heart +like an awakening breeze over the strings of an Ĉolian +harp. I immediately sprang forward, and catching +Fairly by the skirt of his coat, exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Oh stay, sir!—dinna gang and leave us, and I +will do onything ye like."</p> + +<p>"But then mind, my wee man," continued Fairly in +return, "mind that, if ye join us, ye will have neither +house nor hame, and will often be cauld and hungry, +without a bed to lie on."</p> + +<p>"I dinna care," was my uncouth, but resolute +response.</p> + +<p>"There's mair metal in that callant than ye're aware +o'," rejoined Fairly, addressing himself to my mother, +and looking all the while most affectionately into my +countenance. "Here, my little fellow, here's a penny +for ye, to buy a <i>charitcher</i>; and gin ye leeve to be a +man, ye'll aiblins be honoured wi' upholding the doctrines +which it contains, on the mountain and in the +glen, when my auld banes are mixed wi' the clods."</p> + +<p>I looked again at Fairly as he pronounced these +words, and had an angel descended from heaven in all +the radiance and benignity of undimmed glory, such a +presence would not have impressed me more deeply +with feelings of love, veneration, and esteem.</p> + +<p>This colloquy, short as it was, exercised considerable +influence over my future life.</p> + +<p>I cannot suppose anything more imposing, and better +calculated to excite the imagination, than the meetings +of these Cameronians or hill-men. They are still vividly +under my view: the precipitous and green hills of Durrisdeer +on each side—the tent adjoining to the pure mountain +stream beneath—the communion table stretching +away in double rows from the tent towards the acclivity—the +vast multitude in one wide amphitheatre round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +and above—the spring gushing solemnly and copiously +from the rock, like that of Meribah, for the refreshment +of the people—the still or whispering silence +when Fairly appeared, with the Bible under his arm, +without gown, or band, or any other clerical badge of +distinction—the tent-ladder, ascended by the bald-headed +and venerable old man, and his almost divine +regard of benevolence, cast abroad upon a countless +multitude—his earnestness in prayer—his plain and +colloquial style of address—the deep and pious attention +paid to him, from the plaided old woman at the +front of the tent to the gaily dressed lad and lass on +the extremity of the ground—his descent, and the +communion service—his solemn and powerful consecration +prayer, over which the passing cloud seemed to +hover, and the sheep on the hill-side to forego for a +time their pasture—his bald head (like a bare rock +encompassed with furze) slightly fringed with grey +hairs, remaining uncovered under the plashing of a +descending torrent, and his right hand thrust upward, +in holy indignation against the proffered umbrella;—all +this I see under the alternating splendours and +darkenings, lights and shadows, of a sultry summer's +day. The thunder is heard in its awful sublimity; +and whilst the hearts of man and of beast are quaking +around and above, Fairly's voice is louder and more +confirmed, his countenance is brighter, and his eye +more assured, and stedfastly fixed on the muttering +heaven. "Thou, O Lord, art ever near us, but we +perceive Thee not; Thou speakest from Zion, and in +a still small voice, but it is drowned in the world's +murmurings. Then Thou comest forth as now, in thy +throne of darkness, and encompassest thy Sinai with +thunderings and lightnings; and then it is, that like +silly and timid sheep who have strayed from their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +pasture, we stand afar off and tremble. <i>This</i> flash +of thy indignant majesty, which has now crossed these +aged eyes, might, hadst Thou but so willed it, have +dimmed them for ever; and this vast assemblage of +sinful life might have been, in the twinkling of an eye, +as the hosts of Assyria, or the inhabitants of Admah +and Zeboim; but Thou knowest, O Lord, that Thou +hast more work for me, and more mercy for them, and +that the prayers of penitence which are now knocking +hard for entrance and answer, must have time and +trial to prove their sincerity. So be it, good Lord! +for thine ire, that hath suddenly kindled, hath passed; +and the Sun of Righteousness himself hath bid his +own best image come forth from the cloud to enliven +our assembly." In fact, the thunder-cloud had passed, +and under the strong relief of a renewed effulgence, +was wrapping in its trailing ascent the summits of the +more distant mountains.</p> + +<p> +"I to the hills will lift mine eyes,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From whence doth come mine aid:</span><br /> +My safety cometh from the Lord"——<br /> +</p> + +<p>These were the notes which pealed in the after-service +of that memorable occasion from at least ten thousand +hearts. Nor is there any object in nature better calculated +to call forth the most elevated sentiments of +devotion, than such a simultaneous concordant union +of voice and purpose, in praise of Him "who heaven +and earth hath made."</p> + +<p> +"All people that on earth do dwell,<br /> +Sing to the Lord"——<br /> +</p> + +<p>So says the divine monitor; but what says modern +fashion and refinement? Let them answer in succession +for themselves. And first, then, in reference +to fashion. When examined and duly purged, she +deposeth that the time was when men were not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +ashamed to praise their God "before his people +all;" when they even rejoiced with what tones they +might to unite their tributary stream of praise to +that vast flood which rolled, in accumulated efficacy, +towards the throne on high; when lord and lady, +husbandman and mechanic, learned and unlearned, +prince and people, sent forth their hearts in their +united voices towards Him who is the God over all +and the Saviour of all. She further deposeth that +the venerated founders of our Presbyterian Church +were wont to scare the curlew and the bittern of the +mountain and the marsh by their nightly songs of +solemn and combined thanksgiving and praise; and +that, with the view of securing a continuance of this +delightful exercise, our Confession of Faith strictly +enjoins us, providing, by the reading of "the line," +against cases of extreme ignorance or bodily infirmity; +and yet she averreth that, in defiance of law and practice, +of reason and revelation, of good feeling and +common-sense, hath it become unfashionable to be +seen or to be heard praising God. It is vulgar and +unseemly, it would appear, in the extreme, to modulate +the voice or to compose the countenance into any form +or expression which might imply an interest in the +exercise of praise. The young Miss in her teens, +whose tender and susceptible heart is as wax to impressions, +is half betrayed into a spontaneous exhibition +of devotional feeling; but she looks at the marble +countenance and changeless aspect of Mamma, and is +silent. The home-bred, unadulterated peasant would +willingly persevere in a practice to which he has been +accustomed from his first entrance at the church stile; +but his superiors, from pew and gallery, discountenance +his feelings, and indicate by the carelessness—I had +almost added the levity—of their demeanour, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +they are thinking of anything, of everything, but +God's praise; whilst the voices of the hired precentor +and of a few old women and rustics are heard +uniting in suppressed and feeble symphony. Nay, +there is a case still more revolting than any which has +been hitherto denounced—that, namely, of our young +probationers and ministers, who, in many instances, +refuse even in the pulpit that example which, with +their last breath, they were perhaps employed in recommending. +There they sit or stoop whilst the +psalm is singing, busily employed in revising their MS., +or in reviewing the congregation, in selecting and +marking for emphasis the splendid passages, or in +noting for observation whatever of interesting the +dress or the countenances of the people may suggest. +So much for <i>fashion</i>; and now for the deposition of +<i>refinement</i> on the same subject.</p> + +<p>Refinement has indeed much to answer for; she has +brushed the coat threadbare; she has wiredrawn the +thread till it can scarcely support its own weight; and +in no one instance has her besetting sin been more +conspicuous than in her intercommunings with our +church psalmody. The old women who, from the +original establishment of Presbytery, have continued +to occupy and grace our pulpit stairs, are oftentimes +defective in point of sweetness and delicacy of voice; +in fact, they do not sing, but croon, and in some instances +they have even been known to outrun the +precentor by several measures, and to return upon +him a second time ere the conclusion of the line. +What then?—they always croon in a low key; and +if <i>they</i> are gratified, their Maker pleased, and the congregation +in general undisturbed, the principal parties +are disposed of. There is no doubt something unpleasing +to a refined ear in the jarring concord of a rustic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +euphony, when, in full voice, of a sacramental Sabbath +evening, they are inclined to hold on with irresistible +swing. But what they want in harmony, they have in +good-will; what they lose in melody, they gain in the +ringing echo of their voices from roof and ceiling. And +were it possible, without silencing the uninstructed, to +gratify and encourage the refined and the disciplined, +then were there at once a union and a unison of agreeables; +but as this object has never been effected, or even +attempted, and as refinement has at once laid aside all +regard for the humble and untrained worshipper, and +has set her stamp and seal upon a trained band of vocal +performers, it becomes the duty of all rightly constituted +minds to oppose, if they cannot stem the tide—to +mark and stigmatize that as unbecoming and absurd +which the folly of the age would have us consider as +improvement. It is of little moment whether the office +of psalm-singing be committed to a select band, who +surround, with their merry faces and tenor pipes, the +precentor's seat, or be entrusted to separate parties +scattered through the congregation; still, so long as +the <i>taught</i> alone are expected to sing, the original end +of psalm-singing is lost sight of, the habits of a Presbyterian +congregation are violated, and <i>manner</i> being +preferred to <i>matter</i>—an attuned voice to a fervent +spirit—a manifest violence is done to the feelings of +the truly devout.</p> + +<p>No two things are probably more distinct and separate +in the reader's mind than preaching and fishing; yet in +mine they are closely associated.</p> + +<p>And is not fishing or angling with the rod a most +fascinating amusement? There is just enough of +address required to admit and imply a gratifying +admixture of self-approbation; and enough, at the +same time, of chance or circumstance, over which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +fisher has no control, to keep expectation alive even +during the most deplorable luck. Hence a real fisher +is seldom found, from want of success merely, to relinquish +his rod in disgust; but, with the spirit of a +true hill-man of the old school, he is patient in tribulation, +rejoicing in hope. "<i>Meliore opera</i>" is written +upon his countenance; and whilst mischance and misfortune +haunt him, it may be, from stream to stream, +or from pool to pool, he still looks down the glen and +along the river's course; he still regards in anxious +expectation the alluring and more promising curl, the +circulating and creamy froth, the suddenly broken and +hesitating gullet, and the dark clayey bank, under +which the water runs thick and the foam-bells figure +bright and starry. He knows that one single hour of +successful adventure, when the cloud has ascended and +the shadow is deep, and the breeze comes upwards on +the stream, and the whole finny race are in eager expectation +of the approaching shower—that one single +hour of this description will amply repay him for every +discouragement and misfortune.</p> + +<p>And who that has enjoyed this one little hour of +success would consider the purchase as dearly made? +Is it with bait that you are angling?—and in the solitude +of a mountain glen can you discover the stream of +your hope, stretching away like a blue pennant waving +into the distance, and escaping from view behind some +projecting angle of the hill? Your fishing-rod is tight +and right, your line is in order, your hook penetrates +your finger to the barb; other companions than the +plover, the lark, and the water-wagtail you have none. +This is no hour for chirping grasshopper, or flaunting +butterfly, or booming bee; the overshaded and ruffled +water receives your bait with a plump; and ere it has +travelled to the distance of six feet, it is nailed down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +to the leeward of a stone. You pull recklessly and +fearlessly, and flash after flash, and flap after flap, +comes there in upon your hull the spotted and ponderous +inmate of the flood! Or is it the fly with +which you are plying the river's fuller and more seaward +flow? The wide extent of streamy pool is before +you, and beyond your reach. Fathom after fathom +goes reeling from your pirn, but still you are barely +able to drop the far fly into the distant curl. "Habet!" +he has it; and proudly does he bear himself in the +plenitudes of strength, space, and freedom. Your line +cuts and carves the water into all manner of squares, +triangles, and parallelograms. Now he makes a few +capers in the air, and shows you, as an opera dancer +would do, his proportions and agility: now again he is +sulky and restive, and gives you to understand that the +<i>vis inertiĉ</i> is strong within him. But fate is in all his +operations, and his last convulsive effort makes the sand +and the water commingle at the landing-place.</p> + +<p>The resort of the fisher is amidst the retirements of +what, and what alone, can be justly denominated undegraded +nature. The furnace, and the manufactory, +and the bleaching-green, and the tall red smoke-vomiting +chimney are his utter aversion. The village, +the clachan, the city, he avoids: he flies from +them as something intolerably hostile to his hopes. +He holds no voluntary intercourse with man, or with +his petty and insignificant achievements. "He lifts +his eyes to the hills," and his steps lie through the +retired glen, and winding vale, and smiling strath, up +to the misty eminence and cairn-topped peak. He +catches the first beams of the sun, not through the +dim and disfiguring smoke of a city, but over the +sparkling and diamonded mountain, above the unbroken +and undulating line of the distant horizon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +His conversation is with heaven, with the mist, and the +cloud, and the sky; the great, the unmeasured, the incomprehensible +are around him; and all the agitation +and excitement to which his hopes and fears as a mere +fisher subject him, cannot completely withdraw his soul +from that character of sublimity by which the mountain +solitude is so perceptibly impressed.</p> + +<p>I shall never forget one day's sport. The morning +was warm, and in fact somewhat sultry; and swarms +of insects arose on my path. As every gullet was +gushing with water, it behoved me to ascend, even +beyond my former travel, to the purest streams or +feeders, which ran unseen, in general, among the hills. +The clouds, as I hurried on my way, began to gather +up into a dense and darkening awning. There was a +slight and somewhat hesitating breeze on the hill-side, +for I could see the heath and bracken bending under +it, but it was scarcely perceptible beneath. This, however, +I regretted the less, as the mountain torrent to +which I had attached myself was too precipitous and +streamy in its course to require the aids of wind and +curl to forward the sport. Let the true fisher—for he +only can appreciate the circumstances—say what must +have been my delight, my rapture, as I proceeded to +prepare my rod, open out my line over the brink of a +gullet, along which the water rushed like porter through +the neck of a bottle, and at the lower extremity of which +the froth tilted round and round in most inviting eddies! +Here there was no springing of trouts to the surface, +nor coursing of alarmed shoals beneath. The darkened +heaven was reflected back by the darker water; and +the torrent kept dashing, tumbling, and brawling along +under the impulse and agitation of a swiftly ebbing +flood. I had hit upon that very critical shade, betwixt +the high brown and soft blue colour, which every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +mountain angler knows well how to appreciate; and I +felt as if every turn and entanglement of my line +formed a barrier betwixt me and paradise. The very +first throw was successful, ere the bait had travelled +twice round the eddy at the bottom of the gullet. +When trouts in such circumstances take at all, they do +so in good earnest. They are all on the outlook for +food, and dash at the swiftly-descending bait with a +freedom and good-will which almost uniformly insures +their capture. And here, for the benefit of bait fishers, +it may be proper to mention, that success depends not +so much on the choosing and preparing of the worms—though +these undoubtedly are important points—as in +the throwing and drawing, or rather dragging of the +line. In such mountain rapids, the trout always turn +their heads to the current, and never gorge the bait +till they have placed themselves lower down in the +water; consequently, by pulling <i>downwards</i>, two manifest +advantages are gained: the trout is often hooked +without gorging, or even biting at all, and the current +assists the fisher in landing his prize, which, in such +circumstances, may be done in an instant, and at a +single pull. But to return. My success on this occasion +was altogether beyond precedent: at every turn +and wheel of the winding torrent, I was sure to grace the +green turf or sandy channel with another and another +yellow-sided and brightly-spotted half-pounder. The +very sheep, as they travelled along their mountain pathway, +stopped and gazed down on the sport. The season +was harvest, and the Lammas floods had brought up the +bull or sea trouts. I had all along hoped that one or +two stragglers might have reached my position; and this +hope had animated every pull. It was not, however, +till the day was well advanced, that I had the good +fortune to succeed in hooking a large, powerful, active,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +and new-run "milter." In fisher weight he might +seem <i>five</i>, but in imperial he would possibly not exceed +two or three pounds. Immediately upon his feeling +the steel he plunged madly, flung himself into the air, +dived again into the depths, and flounced about in the +most active and courageous style imaginable. At last, +taking the stream-head somewhat suddenly, he showed +tail and fin above the surface of the water, brought his +two extremities almost into contact, shot himself upwards +like an arrow, and was off with the hook and a +yard of line ere I had time to prepare against the +danger; but as unforeseen circumstances led to this +catastrophe, occurrences equally unlooked-for repaired +the loss; for in an instant I secured the disengaged +captive whilst floundering upon the sand, having, by +his headlong precipitancy, fairly pitched himself out of +his native element. There he lay, like a ship in the +shallows, exhibiting scale and fin, and shoulder and +spot, of the most fascinating hue; and, ever and anon, +as the recollection of the fatal precipitancy seemed to +return upon him, he cut a few capers and exhibited a +few somersets, which contributed materially to insure +his capture, and increase my delight.</p> + +<p>By this time I had ascended nearly to the source of +the stream; and at every opening up of the glen I +could perceive a sensible diminution of the current. I +was quite alone in the solitude; and my unwonted +success had rendered me insensible to the escape of +time. The glen terminated at last in a linn and scaur, +beyond which it did not appear probable that trouts +would ascend. Whilst I was engaged in the consideration +of the objects around me, with a reference to my +return home, I became all at once enveloped in mist and +darkness. The mist was dense and close and suffocating, +while the darkness increased every instant. I felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +a difficulty in breathing, as if I had been shut up in an +empty oven; my situation stared me at once in the +face, and I took to my heels over the heath, in what I +considered a homeward direction. Now that my ears +were relieved from the gurgling sound of the water, I +could perceive, through the stillness of the air, that the +thunder was behind me. I had been taught to consider +thunder as the voice of the "Most High," when He +speaks in his wrath, and felt my whole soul prostrated +under the divine rebuke. Some passages of the 18th +Psalm rushed on my remembrance; and as the lightnings +began to kindle, and the thunder to advance, I +could hear myself involuntarily repeating—</p> + +<p> +"Up from his nostrils came a smoke,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And from his mouth there came</span><br /> +Devouring fire; and coals by it<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Were turned into flame.</span><br /> +<br /> +"The Lord God also in the heavens<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Did thunder in his <i>ire</i>,</span><br /> +And there the Highest gave his voice—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hail-stones and coals of fire."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>Such was the subject of my meditation, as the muttering +and seemingly subterraneous thunder boomed and +quavered behind me. At last, one broad and whizzing +flash passed over, around, beneath, and I could almost +imagine, <i>through</i> me. The clap followed instantly, and, +by its deafening knell, drove me head foremost into +the heathy moss. Had the earth now opened (as to +Curtius of old) before me, I should certainly have +dashed into the crater, in order to escape from that +explosive omnipotence which seemed to overtake me. +Peal after peal pitched, with a rending and tearing +sound, upon the drum of my ear and the parapet of +my brain; whilst the mist and the darkness were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +kindled up around me into an open glow. I could +hear a strange rush upon the mountain, and along the +glen, as if the Solway had overleaped all bounds, and +was careering some thousand feet abreast over Criffel +and Queenberry. Down it came at last, in a swirl and +a roar, as if rocks and cairns and heath were commingled +in its sweep. This terrible blast was only the +immediate precursor of a hail-storm, which, descending +at first in separate and distinct pieces, as if the powers +of darkness and uproar had been pitching marbles, +came on at last with a rush, as if Satan himself had +been dumriddling the elements. The water in the +moss-hag rose up, and boiled and sputtered in the face +of heaven, and a rock, underneath the hollow corner of +which I had now crept on hands and knees, rattled all +over, as if assailed by musketry. I lay now altogether +invisible to mortal eye, amidst the mighty movements +of the elements—a thing of nought, endeavouring to +crawl into nonentity—a tiny percipient amidst the +blind urgency of nature. I lay in all the prostration +of a bruised and subdued spirit, praying fervently and +loudly unto God that He might be pleased to cover me +with his hand till his wrath was overpast. And, to my +persuasion at the time, my prayers were not altogether +insufficient: the storm softened, rain succeeded hail, a +pause followed the hurricane, and the thunder's voice +had already travelled away over the brow of the onward +mountain.</p> + +<p>Whilst I was debating with myself whether it were +safer, now that the night had fairly closed in upon the +pathless moor, to remain all night in my present position, +or to attempt once more my return home, I heard, +all of a sudden, the sound of human voices, which the +violence of the storm had prevented me from sooner +perceiving. I scarcely knew whether I was more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +alarmed or comforted by this discovery. From my +previous state of agitation, combined with my early +and rooted belief in all manner of supernaturals, I was +strongly disposed to terror; but the accents were so +manifestly human, that, in spite of my apprehensions, +they tended to cheer me. As I continued, therefore, to +listen with mouth and ears, the voices became louder +and louder, and more numerous, mixed and commingled +as they appeared at last to be with the tread and the +plash of horses' feet. These demonstrations of an approaching +cavalcade naturally called upon me to narrow, +as much and as speedily as possible, my circumference; +in other words, to creep, as it were, into my +shell, by occupying the farthest extremity of the recess, +to which I betook myself at first for shelter, and +now for concealment. There I lay like a limpet stuck +to the rock, against which I could feel my heart beat +with accelerated rapidity. In this situation I could +distinguish voices and expressions, and ultimately unravel +the import of a conversation interlarded with +oaths and similar ornamental flourishes. There was a +proposal to halt, alight, and refresh in this sequestered +situation. Such a proposal, as may readily be supposed, +was to me anything but agreeable. Here was I, according +to my reckoning, surrounded by a band of +robbers, and liable every instant to detection. Firearms +were talked of, and preparations, offensive and +defensive, were proposed. I could distinctly smell +gunpowder. In the meantime, a fire was struck up at +no great distance, under the glare of which I could distinguish +horses heavily panniered, and strange-looking +countenances, congregating within fifty paces of my +retreat. The shadow of the intervening corner of the +rock covered me, otherwise immediate detection would +have been inevitable. The thunder and lightnings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +with all their terrors were nothing to this. In the one +case, I was placed at the immediate disposal of a merciful, +as well as a mighty Being; but at present I ran +every risk of falling into the hands of those whose +counsels I had overheard, and whose tender mercies +were only cruelty. As I lay—rod, basket, and fish +crumpled up into a corner of contracted dimensions—all +ear, however, and eye towards the light—I could +mark the shadows of several individuals who were manifestly +engaged in the peaceful and ordinary process of +eating and drinking; hands, arms, and flagons projected +in lengthened obscurity over the mass, and intimated, +by the rapidity and character of their movements, that +jaws were likewise in motion. The long pull, with the +accompanying <i>smack</i>, were likewise audible; and it was +manifest that the repast was not more substantial than +the beverage was exhilarating. "Word follows word, +from question answer flows." Dangers and contingencies—which, +while the flame was kindling and the +flagon was filling, seemed to agitate and interest all—were +now talked of as bugbears; and oaths of heavy +and horrifying defiance were hurled into the ear of +night, with many concomitant expressions of security +and self-reliance. The night, though dark, had now +become still and warm; and the ground which they +occupied, like my own retreat, had been partially protected +from the hail and the rain by the projecting +rock. The stunted roots of burnt heath, or "brins," +served them plentifully for fuel; and altogether their +situation was not so uncomfortable as might have been +expected. Still, however, their character, employment, +and conversation appeared to me a fearful mystery. +One thing, however, was evident, that they conceived +themselves as engaged in some illegal transactions. +Their whole revel was tainted with treason and in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>subordination: +kings and rulers were disposed of with +little ceremony; and excise officers, in particular, were +visited with anathemas not to be mentioned. At this +critical moment, when the whole party seemed verging +towards downright intoxication, a pistol bullet burst +itself to atoms on the projecting corner of the rock; +and the report which accompanied this demonstration +was followed up by oaths of challenge and imprecation. +The fire went out as if by magic, and an immediate +rush to arms, accompanied by shots and clashing of +lethal weapons, indicated a struggle for life.</p> + +<p>"Stand and surrender, you smuggling scoundrels! +or by all that is sacred, not one of you shall quit this +spot in life!"</p> + +<p>This salutation was answered by a renewed discharge +of musketry; and the darkness, which was relieved by +the momentary flash, became instantly more impenetrable +than ever. Men evidently pursued men, and +horses were held by the bridle, or driven into speed as +circumstances permitted. How it happened that I +neither screamed, fainted, nor died outright, I am yet +at a loss to determine. The darkness, however, was +my covering; and even amidst the unknown horrors of +the onset, I felt in some degree assured by the extinction +of the fire. But this assurance was not of long continuance: +the assailing party had evidently taken possession +of the field; and, after a few questions of mutual +recognition and congratulation, proceeded to secure +their booty, which consisted of one horse, with a considerable +assortment of barrels and panniers. This was +done under the light of the rekindled fire, around which +a repetition of the former festivities was immediately +commenced. The fire, however, now flared full in my +face, and led to my immediate detection. I was summoned +to come forth, with the muzzle of a pistol placed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +within a few inches of my ear—an injunction which I +was by no means prepared to resist. I rolled immediately +outwards from under the rock, displaying my +basket and rod, and screaming all the while heartily for +mercy. At this critical moment a horse was heard to +approach, and a challenge was immediately sent through +the darkness,—every musket was levelled in the direction +of the apprehended danger,—when a voice, to +which I was by no means a stranger, immediately restored +matters to their former bearing.</p> + +<p>"Now, what is the meaning o' a' this, my lads? +And how come the king's servants to be sae ill lodged +at this time o' night? He must be a shabby landlord +that has naething better than the bare heath and the +hard rock to accommodate his guests wi'."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Fairly, my old man of the Covenant," vociferated +the leader of the party, "how come you to be +keeping company with the whaup and the curlew at +this time o' night? But a drink is shorter than a tale; +fling the bridle owre the grey yad's shoulders, an' ca' +her to the bent, till we mak ourselves better acquainted +with this little natty gentleman, whom we have so +opportunely encountered on the moor"—displaying, at +the same time, a keg or small flask of liquor referred to, +and shaking it joyously till it clunked again.</p> + +<p>In an instant Fairly was stationed by the side of the +fire, with a can of Martin's brandy in his hands, and an +expression of exceeding surprise on his countenance as +he perceived my mother's son in full length exhibited +before him. I did not, however, use the ceremony of +a formal recognition; but, rushing on his person, I +clung to it with all the convulsive desperation of a +person drowning. Matters were now adjusted by +mutual recognitions and explanations; and I learned +that I had been the unconscious spectator of a scuffle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +betwixt the "king's officers" and a "band of smugglers;" +and that Fairly, who had been preaching and baptizing +that day at Burnfoot, and was on his return towards +Durrisdeer (where he was next day to officiate), had +heard and been attracted to the spot by the firing. In +these times to which I refer, the Isle of Man formed a +depot for illegal traffic. Tea, brandy, and tobacco, in +particular, found their way from the Calf of Man to +the Rinns of Galloway, Richmaden, and the mouth of +the Solway. From the latter depot the said articles +were smuggled, during night marches, into the interior, +through such byways and mountain passes as were +unfrequented or inaccessible. After suitable libations +had been made, I was mounted betwixt a couple of +panniers, and soon found myself in my own bed, some +time before</p> + +<p> +"That hour o' night's black arch the keystane!"<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DETECTIVES_TALE" id="THE_DETECTIVES_TALE"></a>THE DETECTIVE'S TALE.</h2> + +<h3>THE CHANCE QUESTION.</h3> + + +<p>It is not long since the cleverest of these strangely constituted +men called detectives [<i>entre nous</i> myself] went +up to his superintendent with a very rueful face, and +told him that all his energies were vain in discovering +a clue to an extensive robbery of plate which had occurred +in —— Street some short time before.</p> + +<p>"I confess myself fairly baffled," he said; and could +say no more.</p> + +<p>"With that singular foxhound organ of yours?" +replied his superior. "The herring must have been +well smoked."</p> + +<p>"At the devil's own fire of pitch and brimstone," +said the detective. "But the worst is, I have had no +trail to be taken off. I never was so disconcerted +before. Generally some object to point direction, if +even only a dead crow or smothered sheep; but here, +not even that."</p> + +<p>"No trace of P—— or any of the English gang?"</p> + +<p>"None; all beyond the bounds, or up chimneys, or +down in cellars, or covered up in coal-bunkers. I am +beginning to think the job to be of home manufacture."</p> + +<p>"Generally a clumsy affair; and therefore very easy +for a man of your parts. What reason have you?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely none."</p> + +<p>"That is, I fancy," said the superintendent, "the +thousand pounds of good silver, watches, and rings, are +absolutely gone."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You know my conditions," said the officer: "give +me the thing stolen, and I will find to a living certainty +the man who stole it; or give me the man who stole it, +and I will find you to a dead certainty the thing stolen. +But it's a deuced unfortunate thing that a man can't get +even a sniff."</p> + +<p>"Yes, especially when, as in your case, all his soul +is in his nose."</p> + +<p>"And with such a reward!" continued the chagrined +officer; "scarcely anything so liberal has been offered +in my time; but, after all, the reward is nothing—it is +the honour of the force and one's character. It is well +up for the night anyhow, and I rather think altogether, +unless some flash come by telegraph."</p> + +<p>"You have no other place you can go to now?" said +the superintendent musingly, and not altogether satisfied.</p> + +<p>"None," replied the officer resolutely. "I have been +out of bed for ten nights—every den scoured, and every +'soup-kitchen'<a name="FNanchor_2_" id="FNanchor_2_"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> visited, every swell watched and dogged, +and every trull searched; I can do no more. It is now +eleven, my eyes will hardly hold open, and I request to +be allowed to go and rest for the present."</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_" id="Footnote_2_"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Places for melting plate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p></div> + +<p>"As you like," replied the superintendent. "We +are neither omniscient nor omnipotent."</p> + +<p>"The people who get robbed think us both," said the +officer; and taking his hat, left the office, and began to +trudge slowly down the street. The orderly people had +mostly retired to their homes. The midnight ghouls +from the deep wynds and closes were beginning to +form their gossiping clusters; the perambulators had +begun their courses; and fast youths from the precincts +of the College or the New Town were resuming their +search for sprees, or determined to make them. There</p> + +<p>were among them many clients of our officer, whom he +knew, and had hopes of at some future day; but now +he surveyed them with the eye of one whose occupation +for the time was gone. His sadness was of the colour +of Jacques', but there was a difference: the one wove +out of his melancholy golden verses in the forest of +Arden; our hero could not draw out of his even silver +plate in the dens of Edinburgh. He had come to the +Tron Kirk, and hesitated whether, after all, he should +renounce his hunt for the night—true to the peculiarity +of this species of men, whose game are wretched and +wicked beings, always less or more between them and +the wind's eye, and therefore always stimulating to +pursuit; but again he resolved upon home, or, rather, +his heavy eyes and worn-out spirits resolved him, in +spite of himself, and he turned south, in which direction +his residence was. So on he trudged till he came about +the middle part of the street called the South Bridge, +when he heard pattering behind him the feet of a +woman. She came up to him, and passed him, or +rather was in the act of passing him, when, from something +no better than a desire to stimulate activity, or +rather to free himself from the conviction that he was +utterly and entirely defeated, he turned round to the +girl, whom he saw in an instant was a street-walker, +and threw carelessly a question at her.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"Home," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Where do you live?"</p> + +<p>"In Simon Square."</p> + +<p>Here he was at first inclined to make a stop, having +put the questions more as common routine than with +any defined intention; but just as the girl came opposite +to a lamp-post, and was on the eve of outstripping +him, he said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, by-the-bye, do you know any one thereabouts, +or anywhere else, who mends rings?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Abram."</p> + +<p>"What more?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know his other name; we just call him +Abram, and sometimes Jew Abram."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever get anything mended by him?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I bought a ring from him once."</p> + +<p>"And what did you do with it?"</p> + +<p>"I have it on my finger," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Will you let me see it?" he continued.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>And as they came forward to another lamp-post, he +was shown the ring. He examined it carefully, taking +from his waistcoat another, and comparing the two—"Won't +do."</p> + +<p>"How long is it since you made this purchase?"</p> + +<p>"About ten days ago."</p> + +<p>"And what did you pay for it?"</p> + +<p>"Three and sixpence."</p> + +<p>By this time they had got opposite the square where +the girl lived. She crossed, and he followed, in the +meantime asking her name.</p> + +<p>"There is Abram's house," she said; "there's light +in the window."</p> + +<p>And the officer, standing a little to see where she +went, now began to examine the outside of Abram's +premises. A chink in the shutters showed him a part +of the person of some one inside, whom he conjectured +to be Abram sitting at his work. He opened the door, +and it was as he thought. An old man was sitting +at a bench, with a pair of nippers in his hand, peering +into some small object.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Can you mend that?" said the officer abruptly, +and, without a word of prelocution, pressing into his +hands a ring.</p> + +<p>"Anything," was the prompt reply.</p> + +<p>But no sooner had the ring come under the glance +of his far-ben eye—</p> + +<p>"Yes—ah! ye-es—well—no—no."</p> + +<p>And the peering eye came, as it were, forward out +of its recess, and scanned the face of the officer, who, +on the other hand, was busy watching every turn of +the Jew's features.</p> + +<p>"No; I cannot mend that."</p> + +<p>"Why? You said you could mend anything."</p> + +<p>"Ye-es, anything; but not that."</p> + +<p>"No matter—no harm in asking," replied the officer, +as he looked round the apartment, and fixed his eye on +the back wall, where, in utter opposition to all convenience, +let alone taste, and even to the exclusion of +required space, there were battered two or three coarse +engravings."</p> + +<p>"Good night!"</p> + +<p>"Goo-ood night!"</p> + +<p>"Now what, in the name of decoration, are these +prints hung up on that wall for?" asked the officer of +himself, without making any question of the import of +the Jew's look, and his yes and no. He was now standing +in the middle of the square, and, turning round, he +saw the light put out. Another thought struck him, +but whatever it was, it was the cause of a laugh that +took hold of him, even in the grasp of his anxiety; +yea, he laughed, for a detective, greatly more heartily +than could be authorized by anything I have recorded.</p> + +<p>"Why, the lower print is absolutely the old Jewish +subject of the cup in the sack," he muttered, and +laughed again. "Was ever detective so favoured? <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +—a representation of concealed treasure on the very +wall where that treasure is! Were the brethren fools +enough to put the representation of a cup on Benjamin's +sack?"</p> + +<p>"Robertson!" he called to one of his men, whom, +by the light at the street-end of the entry, he saw +passing, "send two men here upon the instant."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>And then he began to examine more thoroughly the +premises, to ascertain whether there were any exit-openings +besides the door and window. There were +none. He had a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes +to wait, and five of these had not passed before he +observed some one go up and tap at Abram's door. A +question, though he did not hear it, must have been +put by the Jew, for an answer, in a low voice, responded,</p> + +<p>"Slabberdash!"</p> + +<p>"The crack name of that fellow Clinch, whom I've +been after for a week," said the officer to himself, as +he kept in the shadow of a cellar which jutted out +from the other houses.</p> + +<p>The Jew had again answered, for the visitor repeated +to himself, as if in fear and surprise, "Red-light," and, +looking cautiously about him, made off.</p> + +<p>"It is not my cue to follow," muttered the detective; +"but I will do next best."</p> + +<p>And hurrying out of the mouth of the entry at the +heels of the visitor, he caught the policeman on the +Nicolson Street beat almost immediately.</p> + +<p>"Track that fellow," he said; "there—there, you see +him—'tis Slabberdash; do not leave him or the front +of his den till sunrise. I'll get a man for your beat."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," replied the policeman, adroitly blowing +out his bull's-eye and making off at a canter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>The officer returned to his post, and within the time +the two assistants arrived.</p> + +<p>"Go you, Reid, to the office, and send a man to +supply Nicolson Street beat till Ogilvy return; he's on +commission; come back instantly."</p> + +<p>The man obeyed with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"And now, Jones, you and your neighbour take +charge of that door—keep seeing it without it seeing; +you understand? Keep watch; and if any one approach, +scan him for Slabberdash, but take care he +doesn't see you. I will relieve you at shutters-down in +the morning; meanwhile, I'm at home for report or +exigency."</p> + +<p>"I comprehend," replied the man, "and will be +careful."</p> + +<p>The officer took for home, weary and drowsy, though +a little awakened by the events of one half-hour. There +was sight of game, as well as scent. The Jew's look +by itself was not much, yet greatly more to the eye of +a detective than even an expert physiognomist could +imagine. The picture-plastered wall was more; the +cup in the sack was merely an enlivening joke; but +Slabberdash was no joke, as many a douce burgher in +Edinburgh knew to his cost. The fellow was a match +for the father of cheats and lies himself; and therefore +it could be no dishonour to our clever detective +that hitherto he had had no chance with him, any more +than if he had been James Maccoul, or the great +Mahoun.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the other watch having arrived, the two +kept up their surveillance; nor would they be without +something to report to their officer, were it nothing +more than that little Abram—for he was very diminutive—about +one in the morning rather surprised one +of the guard, who was incautiously too near the house,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +by slowly opening the door, and looking out with an +inquiring eye, in his shirt; and upon getting a glimpse +of the dark figure of the policeman, saying, as if to +himself, though intended for the said dark figure, whoever +it might be,</p> + +<p>"I vash wondering if it vash moonlight."</p> + +<p>And, shutting the door hurriedly, he disappeared. +About an hour afterwards, a tall female figure, coming +up the entry from North Richmond Street, made a full +stop, at about three yards from Abram's door, and then +darted off, but not before one of the guard had seen +enough, as he thought, to enable him to swear that it +was Slabberdash's companion, a woman known by the +slang name of Four-toed Mary, once one of the most +dashing and beautiful of the local street-sirens. About +an hour after that the two guards forgathered to compare +notes.</p> + +<p>"The devil is surely in that little man," said the one +who had heard the soliloquy about the moon; "for, +whether or not he wanted light outside or in to drive +away the shadows of his conscience, he served his +purpose a few minutes since by lighting his lamp. I +saw the light through the chinks, and venturing to +listen, heard noises as of working. He is labouring at +something, if not sweating."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps <i>melting</i>," said the other, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"But here comes our officer; there is never rest for +that man when there's a bird on the moor or a fox in +the covert."</p> + +<p>The truth was, as the man said, the detective had +gone home to sleep; but no sooner had he lain down +than the little traces he had discovered began to excite +his imagination, and that faculty, so suggestive in his +class, getting inflamed, developed so many images in +the camera of his mind, that he soon found sleep an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +impossibility, and he was now there to know whether +anything further had transpired. The men made their +report, and he soon saw there was something more than +ordinary in Abram's curiosity about the moon, and still +more in the coincidence of the visits of Slabberdash and +Four-toes. He had a theory, too, about the working, +though it did not admit the melting. He knew better +what to augur. But he had a fault to find, and he was +not slow to find it.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't one of you track Four-toes? One of +you could have served here. She has been off the +scene for three weeks, and is hiding. You ought to +have known that a woman is a good subject for a +detective. Her strength is her weakness, and her +weakness our opportunity. But there's no help for it +now. We must trace the links we have. If she come +again, be more on the alert, and follow up the track. +Keep your guard, and let not a circumstance escape +you."</p> + +<p>"The light is out again," remarked one of the men; +"he has gone to bed."</p> + +<p>"But not to sleep, I warrant," said his superior. +"Look sharp and listen quick, and I will be with you +when I promised."</p> + +<p>He now proceeded to the office in the High Street, +where he found the superintendent waiting for a report +in another case. He recounted all he had seen and +heard.</p> + +<p>"You have a chance here," said the latter; "and, to +confirm our hopes, I can tell you that Four-toes' mother +gave yesterday to a shebeen-master in Toddrick's Close, +one of the rings for a mutchkin of whisky; and, what +is more, Clinch has been traced to the old woman's +house in Blackfriars Wynd. I suspect that the picture's +true after all. The cup is verily in Benjamin's sack."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thus fortified, our detective sought his way again +down the High Street; and as he had time to kill +between that and the opening of the shutters in Simon +Square, he paid a visit to Blackfriars Wynd, where he +found his faithful myrmidon keeping watch over the old +mother's house, like a Skye terrier at the mouth of a rat-hole. +He here learned that Mary with the deficient toe +had also been seen to go upstairs to her mother's garret, +which circumstance accorded perfectly with the statement +of the guard in the square, as no doubt she had +returned home after being startled at the door of Abram. +But then she was seen to go out again, about an hour +before, though whither she went the watch could not +say. The hour of appointment was now approaching. +The day had broken amidst watery clouds, driven about +by a fitful, gusty wind, and every now and then sending +stiff showers of rain, sufficient to have cooled the +enthusiasm of any one but a hunter after the doers of +evil. He had been drenched two or three times, and +now he felt that a glass of brandy was necessary as an +auxiliary to internal resistance against external aggression. +He was soon supplied, and, wending his way to +the old rendezvous, he found his guard, but without +any addition to their report of midnight. Abram was +long of getting up, and it seemed that he was first +roused by the clink of a milkwoman's tankard on the +window-shutter. The door was slowly opened, but in +place of the vendor of milk handing in to her solitary +customer the small half-pint, she went in herself, pails, +and tankard, and all. Our detective marked the circumstance +as being unusual, and, more than unusual +still, the door was partly closed upon her as she entered. +Then he began to think that she had nothing +about her of the appearance of that class of young +women.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Has not that woman the appearance of Four-toes?" +said the officer.</p> + +<p>"I'm blowed if she's not the very woman I saw in +the dark," said one of the men.</p> + +<p>"Split," said the lieutenant; "but be within sign."</p> + +<p>The precaution was wise. In a few minutes Abram's +face was peering out at the door, not this time looking +for the moon—more probably for the enemies of her +minions; and what immediately succeeded showed that +he had got a glimpse of the men, for by-and-by the +milk-maid came forth and proceeded along the square.</p> + +<p>"Go and look into her pails," said the lieutenant to +Reid, as he hastened up to him. "Jones and I will +remain for a moment here."</p> + +<p>Reid set off, and disappeared in the narrow passage +leading to West Richmond Street; but he remained +only a short time.</p> + +<p>"Crumbie is yeld! there's not a drop of milk in her +pitchers," said he, on his return; "and it's no other than +Four-toes."</p> + +<p>"Ah, we've been seen by Abram," said the officer; +"and the pitchers are sent away empty, which otherwise +would have contained something more valuable than +milk. After her again, and track her. Jones and I +will pay Abram a morning visit."</p> + +<p>The man again set off; and the officer and Jones +having hung about a few minutes till Abram came out +to open the shutters and afford them light inside, they +caught their opportunity, and, just as the Jew was +taking down the shattered boards, they darted into the +house. Abram was at their heels in a moment.</p> + +<p>"Vat ish it, gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"A robbery of plate has been committed," said the +officer at once; "and I am here, with your permission +no doubt, to search this house."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very goo-ood; there ish nothing but vat ish my +property."</p> + +<p>The officer had even already seen a half of the bench—which +had consisted of two parts put together, probably +originally intended for some other purpose than +mending jewellery—had been removed and placed +against the wall where Joseph and his brethren were +standing round the cup in the sack, so that it was more +difficult to reach the wall, though the device was clearly +only the half of an idea, as the prints still stood above +the bench, and might, by a sharp eye, have still suggested +the suspicion that they were intended for something +else than decoration, or even the gratification of +a Jew's love for the legends of his country. But the +officer did not go first to the suspected part. He took +a hammer from his pocket, and began rapping all round +the wall. "Stone, stone—lath, lath; ah, a compact +house."</p> + +<p>"Very goo-ood. Vash only three weeks a tenant."</p> + +<p>The officer recollected the estimate of the time given +by the street-walker, the <i>fons et origo</i> of all, and his +hammer went more briskly till he came to the patriarchs. +"Good head, that, of Joseph," he said with a +laugh; "hollow, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Vash a good head—not hollow; the best at the +court of Pharaoh."</p> + +<p>In an instant, a long chisel was through the picture; +and in another, the poker, driven into the chisel-hole, +and wrenched to a side, sent a thin covering of fir lath +into a dozen of splinters. The hand did the rest. A +cupboard was exposed to the eyes of the apparently +wondering Israelite, containing, closely packed, an array +of plate, watches, rings, and bijouterie, sufficient to make +any eye besides a Jew's leap for the wish of possession.</p> + +<p>Abram held up his hands in affected wonderment as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +the lieutenant stood gazing at the treasure, and almost +himself entranced. Jones was fixed to the ground; at +one time looking at the costly treasure, at another at +his superior, who had already, in this department of +his art, acquired an envied reputation.</p> + +<p>"Very goo-ood!" exclaimed Abram; "vash only +here three weeks. What fools to leave here all this +wonderful treasure!"</p> + +<p>"Abram, will you be so good as take a walk up the +High Street? Jones will show you the way. Breakfast +will be waiting you. And do you," looking to +Jones, "send down a box large enough to hold this +silver, and two of our men to remove it to the office."</p> + +<p>"Vash the other tenant," cried Abram, as he saw +the plight he had got into—"vash not me, so help me +the God of my forefathers, even Abraham, Isaac, and +Jacob, who were just men, as I am a just man; it vash +not me. Vash not the cup put in Benjamin's sack?"</p> + +<p>The officer laughed—at this time inside, for it behoved +him now to be grave—at the recollection of the strange +coincidence of the picture and the stolen plate.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Jones, "let us start;" and, clapping +the Jew's old hat on the head of the little man, he took +him under the arm to lead him out.</p> + +<p>"After depositing him," whispered the officer into +Jones' ear, "get help; proceed to Blackfriars, where +Ogilvy is on the watch, and lay hold of Clinch. Some +others will start in search of Reid, who may have +tracked Four-toes, and seize her. You comprehend?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly. Come, Abram—unless you would like +to walk at a safe distance?"</p> + +<p>"Surely I would," replied Abram; "and so would +every man who vash as innocent as the child vash +born yesterday, or this minute."</p> + +<p>When the prisoner had departed, the officer sat down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +on the Jew's stool to rest himself, previous to making a +survey of the articles, with reference to an inventory +he had in his pocket. In this attitude, he took up a +pair of Abram's nippers to fasten a link in his watch +chain, which threatened to give way, so that he might +very well have represented the master of the establishment +sitting at his work. This observation is here +made, as explanatory of another circumstance which +presently occurred in this altogether remarkable case. +The door, which Jones had closed after him, was opened +stealthily; an old woman, wrapped up in a duffle cloak, +slipped quietly and timidly in, and going round the +end of the bench, whispered into the ear of the lieutenant—</p> + +<p>"You'll be Abram, nae doubt?"</p> + +<p>"Ay," replied he.</p> + +<p>"Ye're early at wark."</p> + +<p>"Ay."</p> + +<p>"Weel, the milk-woman—ye ken wha I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; Four-toes."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ay, just Four-toes, that's Mary Burt; ah! +she <i>was</i> a buxom lass in my kennin'. Weel, she has +sent me to you, in a quiet way, ye ken, to tell ye that +the p'lice have an e'e on you. That ill-lookin' scoondrel, +the cleverest o' the 'tectives, as they ca' them—I never +saw him mysel, but dootless you'll ken him—has been +seen in the coort here, wi' twa o' his beagles, and you're +to tak tent."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know the ill-looking Christian dog. Vat ish +your name?"</p> + +<p>"Chirsty Anderson."</p> + +<p>"Where do you live, Christian?"</p> + +<p>"In Wardrop's Coort, at the tap o' the lang stair. +And the milk-maid—ha! ha!—says you're to shift the +things to my room i' the dark'nin', whaur Geordie, my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +laddie, will hae a plank lifted, and you can stow them +awa, ayont the ken o' the cleverest o' them."</p> + +<p>"And where ish the milk-woman?"</p> + +<p>"In my room, pitchers an' a'."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell her to keep there, as vash a prisoner, +till I come to her place."</p> + +<p>"I will."</p> + +<p>"Isn't Geordie, my good woman, called Squint?"</p> + +<p>"Just the same," she replied with a laugh; "and, +ye ken, he has a right to a silver jug or twa, for he +risked his neck for't as weel as Clinch."</p> + +<p>"Surely, surely."</p> + +<p>"But you're to gie me a ring to tak to her, for she's +hard up, and I'll try Mr. E——e wi' 't at night, and +get some shillings on't."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Christian—not a good name that; but +here," taking her by the shoulders, and turning sharply +in the direction of the door—for he was afraid she might +notice the wreck made in the recess,—"look out at the +door, and be on the good watch for the ill-looking +dog."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Abram, ye're sae clever! The deil's in them +if they put saut on <i>your</i> tail."</p> + +<p>"Here, give that to Four-toes, and tell her to keep +good prisoner till I come."</p> + +<p>"Just sae—a bonny ring!"</p> + +<p>"Quick! turn to your right, and go by the Pleasance, +along St. Mary's Wynd, up the High Street, to +your home."</p> + +<p>"Ay," replied the woman as she departed.</p> + +<p>Not five minutes elapsed, when Jones and the +two assistants with the box arrived; when the officer +cried—</p> + +<p>"Jones, follow up an old woman, in a grey duffle +cloak, Christian Anderson by name, who is this moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +gone down by the Pleasance, to take St. Mary's Wynd +and the High Street on her way to her room, in Wardrop's +Court, at the top of the stair. Having seen her +landed, stop five minutes at the door, to give her time +to deliver a ring to Four-toes, then step in, and take +the young woman to the office. You will find Geordie +Anderson there also, the notorious Squint; so pick up +a man as you go, and make Squint sure."</p> + +<p>"At once, sir," replied the man, and was off.</p> + +<p>By-and-by, and just as our officer was beginning to +compare the plate with the inventory, the superintendent, +who had got intelligence of the discovery, +came hurrying in. They found, to their astonishment, +that every article was there, excepting two rings—the +one, probably, that offered to the shebeen-man by Four-toes' +mother, and the other that which had been presently +sent to Four-toes herself. A more complete +recovery was perhaps never achieved; and it was all +the more wonderful from the small beginning from +which the trace had been detected. Having completed +the examination and packed the treasure, which was +presently removed to the office, the discoverer set +about examining Abram's room; but so cunningly had +the whole affair of the resettership been conducted, +that there was not found a trace of any kind to show +his connection with the burglars. The joke of the +man in reference to the process of melting had, however, +had a narrow escape from being realized; for a +kind of furnace had been erected with bricks, and a +large crucible, sufficient to hold a Scotch pint of the +"silver soup," was lying in what had been used as a +coal-bunker. Meanwhile, Reid hurried in in great dejection, +because the milk-woman had baffled him by +going into a house in one of the wynds, and emerging +by the back, and escaping.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She's provided for," said the officer, "and you may +go. I don't need you here; but you may go to Wardrop's +Court, top of stair, and help Jones to take care +of Four-toes and George Anderson called Squint; you +know him?"</p> + +<p>"Who that has once seen him will ever forget him?" +replied the other. "When will Jones be there?"</p> + +<p>"Just when you will arrive, giving you time to walk +slow, like a good detective."</p> + +<p>"And now," said our officer, as he proceeded to +fasten up the door, "so much for a casual question,—a +good night's work, and a reward of a hundred for +recovering a thousand. I think I am entitled to my +breakfast. It's not often a man makes so much of a +morning." And resuming his deliberate walk—a characteristic, +as he himself acknowledged, of a true thief-catcher—he +repaired to a coffee-house in Nicolson +Street, and allayed his hunger by coffee and a pound +of chops. It was about ten o'clock when he reached +the office, where he had the pleasant scene presented +to him of a well-assorted bag of game—the last victims, +Four-toes and Squint, being in the act of being deposited +as he entered. The principals secure, the accessories +were of less consequence. There were there Abram, +Slabberdash, Squint, and Four-toes.</p> + +<p>"To complete our complement we must have Four-toes' +mother and Mrs. Anderson," he said to the superintendent, +"and Reid and Jones will go and fetch +them."</p> + +<p>In the course of an hour both these ladies were +brought into the already considerable company. That +they were all surprised at the unexpected meeting, belongs +to reasonable conjecture; and that Christian +Anderson was more surprised than any of them, when +she discovered her mistake in trusting her secrets to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +the "ill-looking scoundrel" of a detective in place +of Abram, is not less reasonable. Our officer was, +in truth, too gallant a man to traverse those laws +of etiquette which demand respect for the feelings of +females, and he never once alluded to the <i>contretemps</i>. +But Chirsty did not feel the same delicacy in regard to +him, who she feared would hang her for misplaced +confidence. She had no sooner recovered from her +surprise than she cried out to him, in a shrill, piercing +voice—</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll hae mercy on me, sir. It wad do ye +nae guid to stretch the wizzened craig o' an auld woman, +because some silly words—I wish they had choket me—cam +oot o't."</p> + +<p>"They will never be brought against you," said he; +"make yourself easy on that score."</p> + +<p>"Then what am I here for?" she growled, as, relieved +somewhat from her fear, she got into her natural temper.</p> + +<p>"For agreeing to hide stolen property."</p> + +<p>"Stolen property!" she replied. "And did ye no +steal from me my secret about my puir laddie, that ye +may string him to a wuddy? There's an auld sayin' +that speech is silvern, but silence is gowden. Whaur +is the difference between stealing frae me the siller o' +my speech, and robbing a man o' the siller o' his jugs +and teaspoons?"</p> + +<p>"Quiet," he said calmly. "Abram, I want to speak +with you. Separate these," he added, addressing one +of the men.</p> + +<p>And having got Abram by himself, he asked him if +he was inclined to run the risk of a trial and condemnation, +or tell the truth, and trust to the Royal mercy. +The Jew hesitated; but our officer knew that a hesitating +criminal is like a hesitating woman—each waits for +an argument to resolve them against their faith and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +honour. He knew that misfortune breaks up the bonds +of etiquette, even among the virtuous; and that the +honour among themselves, of which thieves boast, and +a portion of mankind, for some strange reason, secretly +approve, becomes weak in proportion to the danger of +retributive justice. Not much given to speculate, he +yet sometimes wondered why it was that one should be +despised and treated harshly because he comes forward +to serve the ends of justice and benefit society; but a +less acute mind may feel no difficulty in accounting for +the anomaly. The king's-evidence, while he proves +himself a coward and false to his faith, acts from pure +selfishness; and though he offers a boon to society, it is +in reality a bargain which he drives for self-preservation. +These speculations certainly did not pass through +the mind of Abram, if his prevailing thought was not +more likely in the form—</p> + +<p>"If I can't get my pound of silver out of the Christian, +I can at least keep my own pound of flesh."</p> + +<p>But whether he thought in this Jewish form or not, +it is certain that he was not long in making as clean a +breast as a Jew might be expected to make of the +whole secret of the robbery. It was planned and +executed, he said, by Slabberdash and Squint, and he +agreed to become resetter on the condition of being +allowed to retain a half of the proceeds. Four-toes +brought the plate to him at half a dozen courses of her +pitchers, and he had intended on that very day to melt +all that was meltable. The watches and rings were to +be reserved for opportunities, as occasions presented.</p> + +<p>I give this story by way of an example of those +strange workings in a close society, whereby often +great events are discovered from what is termed +chance. Such occurrences, however they may startle +us, are all explainable by the laws of probabilities.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +They occur often just in proportion to the increase of +ramifications in civilised conditions. More people come +into the plot; the increased activity drives the culprits +to shifts, and these shifts are perilous from the very +circumstance of being forced. We thus find detection +often more easy and certain in populous towns, with a +good staff of criminal officers, than in quieter places, +where both plotters and shifts are proportionally fewer. +If nature is always true to her purpose, so art, which +is second nature, is equally true to hers, and man is +better provided for than he deserves. I do not concern +myself with the vulgar subject of punishments, never +very agreeable to polite minds, and not at all times +useful to those who gloat over descriptions of them. +It is enough to say that the law was justly applied. +Two got clear off—the mothers of Squint and Four-toes; +and I may add that Chirsty Anderson probably +afterwards acted up more to her own proverb, that +"speech is silvern, but silence is golden."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MERCHANTS_DAUGHTER" id="THE_MERCHANTS_DAUGHTER"></a>THE MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER.</h2> + + +<p>On the western skirts of the Torwood—famous in +Scottish story for its association with the names of +Wallace and Bruce—there stood, in the middle of the +sixteenth century, a farm-house of rather superior appearance +for the period.</p> + +<p>This house was occupied at the time of which we speak +by a person of the name of Henderson, who farmed a +pretty extensive tract of land in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>Henderson was a respectable man; and although not +affluent, was in tolerably easy circumstances.</p> + +<p>The night on which our story opens, which was in the +September of the year 1530, was a remarkably wild and +stormy one. The ancient oaks of the Torwood were bending +and groaning beneath the pressure of the storm; and, +ever and anon, large portions of the dark forest were +rendered visible, and a wild light thrown into its deepest +recesses by the flashing lightning.</p> + +<p>The night, too, was pitch-dark; and, to add to its +dismal character, a heavy drenching rain, borne on the +furious blast, deluged the earth, and beat with violence +on all opposing objects.</p> + +<p>"A terrible night this, goodwife," said Henderson to +his helpmate, as he double-barred the outer door, while +she stood behind him with a candle to afford him the +necessary light to perform this operation.</p> + +<p>"I wish these streamers that have been dancing all +night in the north may not bode some ill to poor Scotland. +They were seen, I mind, just as they are now, +eight nights precisely before that cursed battle of Flod<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>den; +and it was well judged by them that some serious +disaster was at hand."</p> + +<p>"But I have heard you say, goodman," replied David +Henderson's better-half, who—the former finding some +difficulty in thrusting a bar into its place—was still detained +in her situation of candle-holder, "that the fight +of Flodden was lost by the king's descending from his +vantage-ground."</p> + +<p>"True, goodwife," said David; "but was not his +doing so but a means of fulfilling the prognostication? +How could it have been brought about else?"</p> + +<p>The door being now secured, Henderson and his +wife returned without further colloquy into the house; +and shortly after, it being now late, retired to bed.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the storm continued to rage with +unabated violence. The rush of the wind amongst the +trees was deafening; and at first faintly, but gradually +waxing louder, as the stream swelled with the descending +deluge of rain, came the hoarse voice of the adjoining +river on the blast as it boiled and raged along.</p> + +<p>Henderson had been in bed about an hour—it was +now midnight—but had been kept awake by the tremendous +sounds of the tempest, when, gently jogging +his slumbering helpmate—</p> + +<p>"Goodwife," he said, "listen a moment. Don't you +hear the voice of some one shouting without?"</p> + +<p>They now both listened intently; and loudly as the +storm roared, soon distinguished the tramp of horses' +feet approaching the house.</p> + +<p>In the next moment, a rapid succession of thundering +strokes on the door, as if from the butt end of a +heavy whip, accompanied by the exclamations of—"Ho! +within there! house, house!" gave intimation +that the rider sought admittance.</p> + +<p>"Who can this be?" said Henderson, making an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +attempt to rise; in which, however, he was resisted by +his wife, who held him back, saying—</p> + +<p>"Never mind them, David; let them just rap on. +This is no time to admit visitors. Who can tell who +they may be?"</p> + +<p>"And who cares who they may be?" replied the +sturdy farmer, throwing himself out of bed. "I'll just +see how they look from the window, Mary;" and he +proceeded to the window, threw it up, looked over, and +saw beneath him a man of large stature, mounted on a +powerful black horse, with a lady seated behind him.</p> + +<p>"Dreadful night, friend," said the stranger, looking +up to the window occupied by Henderson, and to which +he had been attracted by the noise made in raising it. +"Can you give my fellow-traveller here shelter till +the morning? She is so benumbed with cold, so +drenched with wet, and so exhausted by the fatigue +of a long day's ride, that she can proceed no further; +and we have yet a good fifteen miles to make out."</p> + +<p>"This is no hostel, friend, for the accommodation of +travellers," replied the farmer. "I am not in the +habit of admitting strangers into my house, especially +at so late an hour of the night as this."</p> + +<p>"Had I been asking for myself," rejoined the horseman, +"I should not have complained of your wariness; +but surely you won't be so churlish as refuse quarters +to a lady on such a night as this. She can scarce retain +her seat on the saddle. Besides, you shall be +handsomely paid for any trouble you may be put to."</p> + +<p>"Oh do, good sir, allow me to remain with you for +the night, for I am indeed very much fatigued," came +up to the ear of Henderson, in feeble but silvery tones, +from the fair companion of the horseman, with the addition, +after a short pause, of "You shall be well rewarded +for the kindness."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>At a loss what to do, Henderson made no immediate +reply, but, scratching his head, withdrew from the +window a moment to consult his wife.</p> + +<p>Learning that there was a lady in the case, and judging +from this circumstance that no violence or mischief +of any kind was likely to be intended, the latter agreed, +although still with some reluctance, to her husband's +suggestion that the benighted travellers should be admitted.</p> + +<p>On this resolution being come to, Henderson returned +to the window, and thrusting out his head, +exclaimed, "Wait there a moment, and I will admit +you."</p> + +<p>In the next instant he had unbarred the outer door, +and had stepped out to assist the lady in dismounting; +but was anticipated in this courtesy by her companion, +who had already placed her on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Shall I put up your horse, sir?" said Henderson, +addressing the stranger, but now with more deference +than before; as, from his dress and manner, which he +had now an opportunity of observing more closely, he +had no doubt he was a man of rank.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, thank you, friend," replied the latter. +"My business is pressing, and I must go on; but allow +me to recommend this fair lady to your kindest attention. +To-morrow I will return and carry her away."</p> + +<p>Saying this, he again threw himself on his horse—a +noble-looking charger—took bridle in hand, struck his +spurs into his side, and regardless of all obstacles, and +of the profound darkness of the night, darted off with +the speed of the wind.</p> + +<p>In an instant after, both horse and rider were lost in +the gloom; but their furious career might for some +time be tracked, even after they had disappeared, by +the streams of fire which poured from the fierce colli<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>sion +of the horse's hoofs with the stony road over which +he was tearing his way with such desperate velocity.</p> + +<p>Henderson in the meantime had conducted his fair +charge into the house, and had consigned her to the +care of his wife, who had now risen for the purpose of +attending her.</p> + +<p>A servant having been also called up, a cheerful fire +soon blazed on the hearth of the best apartment in the +house—that into which the strange lady had been +ushered.</p> + +<p>The kind-hearted farmer's wife now also supplied her +fair guest with dry clothing and other necessaries, and +did everything in her power to render her as comfortable +as possible.</p> + +<p>To this kindness her natural benevolence alone would +have prompted her; but an additional motive presented +itself in the youth and extreme beauty of the fair +traveller, who was, as the farmer's wife afterwards remarked +to her husband, the loveliest creature her eyes +ever beheld. Nor was her manner less captivating: it +was mild and gentle, while the sweet silvery tones of +her voice imparted an additional charm to the graces of +her person.</p> + +<p>Her apparel, too, the good woman observed, was of the +richest description; and the jewellery with which she was +adorned, in the shape of rings, bracelets, etc., and which +she deposited one after another on a table that stood +beside her, with the careless manner of one accustomed +to the possession of such things, seemed of great value.</p> + +<p>A purse, also, well stored with golden guineas, as the +sound indicated, was likewise thrown on the table with +the same indifferent manner.</p> + +<p>The wealth of the fair stranger, in short, seemed +boundless in the eyes of her humble, unsophisticated +attendant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p>The comfort of the young lady attended to in every +way, including the offer of some homely refreshment, +of which, however, she scarcely partook, pleading excessive +fatigue as an apology, she was left alone in the +apartment to retire to rest when she thought proper; +the room containing a clean and neat bed, which had +always been reserved for strangers.</p> + +<p>On rejoining her husband, after leaving her fair +guest, a long and earnest conversation took place between +the worthy couple as to who or what the +strangers could be. They supposed, they conjectured, +they imagined, but all to no purpose. They could +make nothing of it beyond the conviction that they +were persons of rank; for the natural politeness of the +"guidwife" had prevented her asking the young lady +any questions touching her history; and she had made +no communication whatever on the subject herself.</p> + +<p>As to the lady's companion, all that Henderson, who +was the only one of the family who had seen him, could +tell, was, that he was a tall, dark man, attired as a +gentleman, but so muffled up in a large cloak, that he +could not, owing to that circumstance and the extreme +darkness of the night, make out his features +distinctly.</p> + +<p>Henderson, however, expressed some surprise at the +abruptness of his departure, and still more at the wild +and desperate speed with which he had ridden away, +regardless of the darkness of the night and of all obstacles +that might be in the way.</p> + +<p>It was what he himself, a good horseman, and who +knew every inch of the ground, would not have done +for a thousand merks; and a great marvel he held it, +that the reckless rider had got a hundred yards without +horse and man coming down, to the utter destruction of +both.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>Such was the substance of Henderson's communications +to his wife regarding the horseman. The latter's +to him was of the youth and exceeding beauty of his fair +companion, and of her apparently prodigious wealth. +The worthy man drank in with greedy ears, and looks +of excessive wonderment, her glowing descriptions of +the sparkling jewels and heavily laden purse which she +had seen the strange lady deposit on the table; and +greatly did these descriptions add to his perplexity as +to who or what this lady could possibly be.</p> + +<p>Tired of conjecturing, the worthy couple now again +retired to rest, trusting that the morning would bring +some light on a subject which so sadly puzzled them.</p> + +<p>In due time that morning came, and, like many of +those mornings that succeed a night of storm, it came +fair and beautiful. The wind was laid, the rain had +ceased, and the unclouded sun poured his cheerful +light through the dark green glades of the Torwood.</p> + +<p>On the same morning another sun arose, although to +shine on a more limited scene. This was the fair guest +of David Henderson of Woodlands, whose beauty, remarkable +as it had seemed on the previous night under +all disadvantages, now appeared to surpass all that can +be conceived of female perfection.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Henderson looked, and, we may say, gazed on +the fair stranger with a degree of wonder and delight, +that for some time prevented her tendering the civilities +which she came for the express purpose of offering. +For some seconds she could do nothing but obey a +species of charm, for which, perhaps, she could not +have very well accounted. The gentle smile, too, +and melodious voice of her guest, seemed still more +fascinating than on the previous evening.</p> + +<p>In the meantime the day wore on, and there was yet +no appearance of the lady's companion of the former<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +night, who, as the reader will recollect, had promised to +Henderson to return and carry away his fair lodger.</p> + +<p>Night came, and still he appeared not. Another day +and another night passed away, and still he of the +black charger was not forthcoming.</p> + +<p>The circumstance greatly surprised both Henderson +and his wife; but it did not surprise them more than +the lady's apparent indifference on the subject. She +indeed joined, in words at least, in the wonder which +they once or twice distantly hinted at the conduct of +the recreant knight; but it was evident that she did not +feel much of either astonishment or disappointment at +his delay.</p> + +<p>Again and again, another and another day came and +passed away, and still no one appeared to inquire after +the fair inmate of Woodlands.</p> + +<p>It will readily be believed that the surprise of +Henderson and his wife at this circumstance increased +with the lapse of time. It certainly did. But however +much they might be surprised, they had little +reason to complain, so far, at any rate, as their interest +was concerned, for their fair lodger paid them handsomely +for the trouble she put them to. She dealt out +the contents of her ample and well-stocked purse with +unsparing liberality, besides presenting her hostess with +several valuable jewels.</p> + +<p>On this score, therefore, they had nothing to complain +of; and neither needed to care, nor did care, how +long it continued.</p> + +<p>During all this time the unknown beauty continued +to maintain the most profound silence regarding her +history,—whence she had come, whither she was +going, or in what relation the person stood to her who +had brought her to Woodlands, and who now seemed +to have deserted her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>All that the most ingeniously-put queries on the +subject could elicit was, that she was an entire stranger +in that part of the country; and an assurance that the +person who brought her would return for her one day, +although there were reasons why it might be some +little time distant.</p> + +<p>What these reasons were, however, she never would +give the most remote idea; and with this measure of +information were her host and hostess compelled to +remain satisfied.</p> + +<p>The habits of the fair stranger, in the meantime, +were extremely retired. She would never go abroad +until towards the dusk of the evening; and when she +did, she always took the most sequestered routes; her +favourite, indeed only resort on these occasions, being +a certain little retired grove of elms, at the distance of +about a quarter of a mile from Woodlands.</p> + +<p>The extreme caution the young lady observed in +all her movements when she went abroad, a good deal +surprised both Henderson and his wife; but, from a +feeling of delicacy towards their fair lodger, who had +won their esteem by her affable and amiable manners, +they avoided all remark on the subject, and would +neither themselves interfere in any way with her proceedings, +nor allow any other member of their family +to do so.</p> + +<p>Thus was she permitted to go out and return whensoever +she pleased, without inquiry or remark.</p> + +<p>Although, however, neither Henderson nor his wife +would allow of any one watching the motions of their +fair but mysterious lodger when she went abroad, +there is nothing to hinder us from doing this. We +shall therefore follow her to the little elm grove by +the wayside, on a certain evening two or three days +after her arrival in Woodlands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>Doing this, we shall find the mysterious stranger +seated beside a clear sparkling fountain, situated a +little way within the grove, that, first forming itself +into a little pellucid lake in the midst of the greensward, +afterwards glided away down a mossy channel +bedecked with primroses.</p> + +<p>All alone by this fountain sat the young lady, looking, +in her surpassing features and the exquisite symmetry +of her light and graceful form, the very nymph of the +crystal waters of the spring—the goddess of the grove.</p> + +<p>As she thus sat on the evening in question—it being +now towards the dusk—the bushes, by which the fountain +was in part shut in, were suddenly and roughly +parted, and in the next moment a young man of elegant +exterior, attired in the best fashion of the period, +and leading a horse behind him by the bridle, stood +before the half-alarmed and blushing damsel.</p> + +<p>The embarrassment of the lady, however, was not +much greater than that of the intruder, who appeared +to have little expected to find so fair and delicate a +creature in such a situation, or indeed to find any +one else. He himself had sought the fountain, which +he knew well, and had often visited, merely to quench +his thirst.</p> + +<p>After contemplating each other for an instant with +looks of surprise and embarrassment, the stranger +doffed his bonnet with an air of great gallantry, and +apologised for his intrusion.</p> + +<p>The lady, smiling and blushing, replied, that his +appearance there could be no intrusion, as the place +was free to all.</p> + +<p>"True, madam," said the former, again bowing low; +"but your presence should have made it sacred, and +I should have so deemed it, had I been aware of your +being here."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + +<p>The only reply of the young lady to this gallant +speech, was a profound curtsey, and a smile of winning +sweetness which was natural to her.</p> + +<p>Unable to withdraw himself from the fascinations of +the fair stranger, yet without any apology for remaining +longer where he was, the young man appeared for +a moment not to know precisely what he should say +or do next. At length, however, after having vainly +hinted a desire to know the young lady's name and +place of residence, his courtesy prevailed over every +other more selfish feeling, and he mounted his horse, +and, bidding the fair wood-nymph a respectful adieu, +rode off.</p> + +<p>The young gallant, however, did not carry all away +with him that he brought,—he left his heart behind +him; and he had not ridden far before he found that +he had done so.</p> + +<p>The surpassing beauty of the fair stranger, and the +captivating sweetness of her manner, had made an +impression upon him which was destined never to be +effaced.</p> + +<p>His, in short, was one of those cases in the matter +of love, which, it is said, are laughed at in France, +doubted in England, and true only of the warm-tempered +sons and daughters of the sunny south,—love +at first sight.</p> + +<p>It was so. From that hour the image of the lovely +nymph of the grove was to remain for ever enshrined +in the inmost heart of the young cavalier.</p> + +<p>He had met with no encouragement to follow up the +accidental acquaintance he had made. Indeed, the +lady's reluctance to give him any information whatever +as to her name or residence, he could not but consider +as an indirect intimation that she desired no +further correspondence with him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>But, recollecting the old adage, that "faint heart +never won fair lady," he resolved, although unbidden, +to seek, very soon again, the fountain in the elm grove.</p> + +<p>Having brought our story to this point, we shall +retrace our steps a little way, and take note of certain +incidents that occurred in the city of Glasgow on the +day after the visit of him of the black charger at +Woodlands.</p> + +<p>Early on the forenoon of that day, the Drygate, then +one of the principal streets of the city above named, +exhibited an unusual degree of stir and bustle.</p> + +<p>The causeway was thronged with idlers, who were +ever and anon dashed aside, like the wave that is +thrown from the prow of a vessel, by some prancing +horseman, who made his way towards an open space +formed by the junction of three different streets.</p> + +<p>At this point were mustering a band of riders, consisting +of the civil authorities of the city, together with +a number of its principal inhabitants, and other gentlemen +from the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>The horsemen were all attired in their best,—hat +and feathers, long cloaks of Flemish broad-cloth, and +glittering steel-handed rapiers by their sides.</p> + +<p>Having mustered to about the number of thirty, +they formed themselves into something like regular +order, and seemed now to be but awaiting the word to +march. And it was indeed so; but they were also +awaiting he who was to give it. They waited the +appearance of their leader. A shout from the populace +soon after announced his approach.</p> + +<p>"The Provost! the Provost!" exclaimed a hundred +voices at once, as a man of large stature, and of a bold +and martial bearing, mounted on a "coal-black steed," +came prancing alongst the Drygate-head, and made for +the point at which the horsemen were assembled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + +<p>On his approach, the latter doffed their hats respectfully—a +civility which was gracefully returned by him +to whom it was addressed.</p> + +<p>Taking his place at the head of the cavalcade, the +Provost gave the word to march, when the whole party +moved onwards; and after cautiously footing it down +the steep and ill-paved descent of the Drygate, took, +at a slow pace, the road towards Hamilton.</p> + +<p>The chief magistrate of Glasgow, who led the party +of horsemen on the present occasion, was Sir Robert +Lindsay of Dunrod,—a powerful and wealthy baron +of the neighbourhood, who had been chosen to that +appointment, as all chief magistrates were chosen in +those wild and turbulent times, on account of his ability +to protect the inhabitants from those insults and injuries +to which they were constantly liable at the hands +of unprincipled power, and from which the laws were +too feeble to shield them.</p> + +<p>And to better hands than those of Sir Robert Lindsay, +who was a man of bold and determined character, +the welfare of the city and the safety of the citizens +could not have been entrusted.</p> + +<p>In return for the honour conferred on him, and the +confidence reposed in him, he watched over the interests +of the city with the utmost vigilance. But it was not +to the general interest alone that he confined the benefits +of his guardianship. Individuals, also, who were +wronged, or threatened to be wronged, found in him +a ready and efficient protector, let the oppressor or +wrongdoer be whom he might.</p> + +<p>Having given this brief sketch of the leader of the +cavalcade, we resume the detail of its proceedings.</p> + +<p>Holding on its way in a south-easterly direction, the +party soon reached and passed Rutherglen Bridge; the +road connecting Hamilton with Glasgow being then on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +the south side of the Clyde. But a little way farther +had they proceeded, when the faint sound of a bugle +was heard, coming apparently from a considerable distance.</p> + +<p>"There he comes at last," said Sir David Lindsay, +suddenly checking his horse to await the coming up of +his party, of which he had been riding a little way in +advance, immersed in a brown study. "There he +comes at last," he exclaimed, recalled from his reverie +by the sound of the bugle. "Look to your paces, +gentlemen, and let us show some order and regularity +as well as respect."</p> + +<p>Obeying this hint, the horsemen, who had been +before jogging along in a confused and careless manner, +now drew together into a closer body; the laggards +coming forward, and those in advance holding back.</p> + +<p>In this order, with the Provost at their head, the +party continued to move slowly onwards; but they +had not done so for many minutes, when they descried, +at the farther extremity of a long level reach of the +road, a numerous party of horse approaching at a +rapid, ambling pace, and seemingly straining hard to +keep up with one who rode a little way in their front.</p> + +<p>The contrast between this party and the Provost's +was striking enough.</p> + +<p>The latter, though exceedingly respectable and citizen-like, +was of extremely sober hue compared to the +former, in which flaunted all the gayest dresses of the +gayest courtiers of the time. Long plumes of feathers +waved and nodded in velvet bonnets, looped with gold +bands; and rich and brilliant colours, mingling with +the glitter of steel and silver, gave to the gallant cavalcade +at once an imposing and magnificent appearance. +In point of horsemanship, too, with the exception of +Sir Robert Lindsay himself, and one or two other men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +of rank who had joined his party, the approaching +cavaliers greatly surpassed the worthy citizens of St. +Mungo,—coming on at a showy and dashing pace, +while the latter kept advancing with the sober, steady +gait assimilative of their character.</p> + +<p>On the two parties coming within about fifty paces +of each other, Sir Robert Lindsay made a signal to his +followers to halt, while he himself rode forward, hat in +hand, towards the leader of the opposite party.</p> + +<p>"Our good Sir Robert of Dunrod," said the latter, +who was no other than James V., advancing half-way +to meet the Provost, and taking him kindly and +familiarly by the hand as he spoke. "How did'st +learn of our coming?"</p> + +<p>"The movements of kings are not easily kept secret," +replied Sir Robert, evasively.</p> + +<p>"By St. Bridget, it would seem not," replied James, +laughingly. "My visit to your good city, Sir Robert, +I did not mean to be a formal one, and therefore had +mentioned it only to one or two. In truth, I—I"—added +James, with some embarrassment of manner—"I +had just one particular purpose, and that of a private +nature, in view. No state matter at all, Sir Robert—nothing +of a public character. So that, to be plain +with you, Sir Robert, I could have dispensed with the +honour you have done me in bringing out these good +citizens to receive me; that being, I presume, your +purpose. Not but that I should have been most happy +to meet yourself, Sir Robert; but it was quite unnecessary +to trouble these worthy people."</p> + +<p>"It was our bounden duty, your Grace," replied Sir +Robert, not at all disconcerted by this royal damper on +his loyalty. "It was our bounden duty, on learning +that your Grace was at Bothwell Castle, and that you +intended visiting our poor town of Glasgow, to acknow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>ledge +the favour in the best way in our power. And these +worthy gentlemen and myself could think of no better +than coming out to meet and welcome your Grace."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, since it is so, Sir Robert," replied the +king, good-humouredly, "we shall take the kindness +as it is meant. Let us proceed."</p> + +<p>Riding side by side, and followed by their respective +parties, James and the Provost now resumed their progress +towards Glasgow, where they shortly after arrived, +and where they were received with noisy acclamations +by the populace, whom rumour had informed of the +king's approach.</p> + +<p>On reaching the city, the latter proceeded to the +Bishop's Castle,—an edifice which has long since disappeared, +but which at this time stood on or near +the site of the infirmary,—in which he intended taking +up his residence.</p> + +<p>Having seen the king within the castle gates, his +citizen escort dispersed, and sought their several homes; +going off, in twos and threes, in different directions.</p> + +<p>"Ken ye, Sir Robert, what has brought his Grace +here at present?" said an old wealthy merchant, who +had been one of the cavalcade that went to meet James, +and whom the Provost overtook as he was leisurely +jogging down the High Street, on his way home.</p> + +<p>"Hem," ejaculated Sir Robert. "Perhaps I have +half a guess, Mr, Morton. The king visits places +on very particular sorts of errands sometimes. His +Grace didn't above half thank us for our attendance +to-day. He would rather have got somewhat more +quietly into the city; but I had reasons for desiring it +to be otherwise, so did not mind his hints about his +wish for privacy."</p> + +<p>"And no doubt he had his reasons for the privacy +he hinted at," said Sir Robert's companion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You may swear that," replied the latter, laughingly.</p> + +<p>"Heard ye ever, Mr. Morton, of a certain fair and +wealthy young lady of the name of Jessie Craig?"</p> + +<p>"John Craig's daughter?" rejoined the old merchant.</p> + +<p>"The same," said Sir Robert. "The prettiest girl +in Scotland, and one of the wealthiest too."</p> + +<p>"Well; what if the king should have been smitten +with her beauty, having seen her accidentally in Edinburgh, +where she was lately? and what, if his visit to +Glasgow just now should be for the express purpose of +seeing this fair maiden? and what, if I should not +exactly approve of such a proceeding, seeing that the +young lady in question has, as you know, neither +father nor mother to protect her, both being dead?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Sir Robert, and what then?" here interposed +Mr. Morton, availing himself of a pause in the former's +supposititious case.</p> + +<p>"Why, then, wouldn't it be my bounden duty, worthy +sir, as Provost of this city, to act the part of guardian +towards this young maiden in such emergency, and to +see that she came by no wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Truly, it would be a worthy part, Sir Robert," +replied the old merchant; "but the king is strong, and +you may not resist him openly."</p> + +<p>"Nay, that I would not attempt," replied the Provost. +"I have taken quieter and more effectual measures. +Made aware, though somewhat late, through a trusty +channel, of the king's intended visit and its purpose, I +have removed her out of the reach of danger, to where +his Grace will, I rather think, have some difficulty in +finding her."</p> + +<p>"So, so. And this, then, is the true secret of the +honour which has just been conferred on us!" replied +Sir Robert's companion, with some indignation. "But +the matter is in good hands when it is in yours, Provost.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +In your keeping we consider our honours and our +interests are safe. I wish you a good day, Provost." +And the interlocutors having by this time arrived at +the foot of the High Street, where four streets joined, +the old merchant took that which conducted to his residence, +Sir Robert's route lying in an opposite direction.</p> + +<p>From the conversation just recorded, the reader will +at once trace a connection between Sir Robert Lindsay +of Dunrod and he of the black charger who brought to +Woodlands the fair damsel whom we left there. They +were the same; and that fair damsel was the daughter +of John Craig, late merchant of the city of Glasgow, +who left an immense fortune, of which this girl was the +sole heir.</p> + +<p>In carrying the young lady to Woodlands, and leaving +her there, Sir Robert, although apparently under +the compulsion of circumstances, was acting advisedly. +He knew Henderson to be a man of excellent character +and great respectability; and in the secrecy and mystery +he observed, he sought to preclude all possibility +of his interference in the affair ever reaching the ears +of the king. What he had told to old Morton, he knew +would go no further; that person having been an intimate +friend of the young lady's father, and of course +interested in all that concerned her welfare.</p> + +<p>The palace of a bishop was not very appropriate +quarters for one who came on such an errand as that +which brought James to Glasgow. But this was a circumstance +that did not give much concern to that +merry and somewhat eccentric monarch; and the less +so, that the bishop himself happened to be from home +at the time, on a visit to his brother of St. Andrews.</p> + +<p>Having the house thus to himself, James did not +hesitate to make as free use of it as if he had been at +Holyrood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not many hours after his arrival at the castle, +that he summoned to his presence a certain trusty attendant +of the name of William Buchanan, and thus +schooled him in the duties of a particular mission in +which he desired his services.</p> + +<p>"Willie," said the good-humoured monarch, "at the +further end of the Rottenrow of this good city of Glasgow—that +is, at the western end of the said row—there +stands a fair mansion on the edge of the brae, and overlooking +the strath of the Clyde. It is the residence of +a certain fair young lady of the name of Craig. Now, +Willie, what I desire of you to do is this: you will go +to this young lady from me, carrying her this gold ring, +and say to her that I intend, with her permission, +doing myself the honour of paying her a visit in the +course of this afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Make your observations, Willie, and let me know +how the land lies when you return. But, pray thee, +keep out of the way of our worthy knight of Dunrod; +and if thou shouldst chance to meet him, and he should +question thee, seeing that you wear our livery, breathe +no syllable of what thou art about, otherwise he may +prove somewhat troublesome to both of us. At any +rate, to a certainty, he would crop thy ears, Willie; +and thou knowest, king though I be, I could not put +them on again, nor give thee another pair in their stead. +So keep those thou hast out of the hands of Sir Robert +Lindsay of Dunrod, I pray thee."</p> + +<p>Charged with his mission, Willie, who had been often +employed on matters of this kind before, proceeded to +the street with the unsavoury name already mentioned; +but, not knowing exactly where to find the house he +wanted, he looked around him to see if he could see +any one to whom he might apply for information. +There happened to be nobody on the street at the time;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +but his eye at length fell on an old weaver—as, from +the short green apron he wore, he appeared to be—standing +at a door.</p> + +<p>Towards this person Willie now advanced, discarding, +however, as much as possible, all appearance of having +any particular object in view; for he prided himself on +the caution and dexterity with which he managed all +such matters as that he was now engaged in.</p> + +<p>"Fine day, honest man," said Willie, approaching +the old weaver. "Gran wather for the hairst."</p> + +<p>"It's just that, noo," replied the old man, gazing at +Willie with a look of inquiry. "Just uncommon pleesant +wather."</p> + +<p>"A bit nice airy place up here," remarked the latter.</p> + +<p>"Ou ay, weel aneuch for that," replied the weaver. +"But air 'll no fill the wame."</p> + +<p>"No very substantially," said Willie. "Some gran +hooses up here, though. Wha's is that?" and he +pointed to a very handsome mansion-house opposite.</p> + +<p>"That's the rector o' Hamilton's," replied the weaver.</p> + +<p>"And that are there?"</p> + +<p>"That's the rector o' Carstairs'."</p> + +<p>"And that?"</p> + +<p>"That's the rector o' Erskine's."</p> + +<p>"'Od, but ye do leeve in a godly neighbourhood +here," said Willie, impatient with these clerical iterations. +"Do a' the best houses hereawa belang to the +clergy?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, the maist feck o' them," said the weaver. +"Leave ye them alane for that. The best o' everything +fa's to their share."</p> + +<p>"Yonder's anither handsome hoose, noo," said Willie, +pointing to one he had not yet indicated. "Does yon +belang to the clergy too?"</p> + +<p>"Ou no; yon's the late Mr. Craig's," replied the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +weaver; "ane o' oor walthiest merchants, wha died +some time ago."</p> + +<p>"Ou ay," said Willie, drily; "just sae. Gude +mornin', friend." And thinking he had managed his +inquiries very dexterously, he sauntered slowly away—still +assuming to have no special object in view—towards +the particular house just spoken of, and which, +we need not say, was precisely the one he wanted.</p> + +<p>It was a large isolated building, with an extensive +garden behind, and stretching down the face of what is +now called the Deanside Brae. On the side next the +street, the entrance was by a tall, narrow, iron gate. +This gate Willie now approached, but found it locked +hard and fast. Finding this, he bawled out, at the top +of his voice, for some one to come to him. After a +time, an old woman made her appearance, and, in no +very pleasant mood, asked him what he wanted.</p> + +<p>"I hae a particular message, frae a very particular +person, to the young leddy o' this hoose," replied Willie.</p> + +<p>"Ye maun gang and seek the young leddy o' this +hoose ither whars than here, then," said the old dame, +making back to the house again, without intending any +further communication on the subject.</p> + +<p>"Do ye mean to say that she's no in the hoose?" +shouted Willie.</p> + +<p>"Ay, I mean to say that, and mair too," replied the +old crone. "She hasna been in't for a gey while, and +winna be in't for a guid while langer; and sae ye may +tell them that sent ye."</p> + +<p>Saying this, she passed into the house; and by doing +so, would have put an end to all further conference.</p> + +<p>But Willie was not to be thus baffled in his object. +Changing his tactics from the imperative to the wheedling, +in which last he believed himself to be exceedingly +dexterous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Mistress—I say, Mistress," he shouted, in a loud, +but coaxing tone; "speak a word, woman—just a +word or two. Ye maybe winna fare the waur o't."</p> + +<p>Whether it was the hint conveyed in the last clause +of Willie's address, or that the old woman felt some +curiosity to hear what so urgent a visitor had to say, +she returned to the door, where, standing fast, and looking +across the courtyard at Willie, whose sly though +simple-looking face was pressed against the iron bars +of the outer gate, she replied to him with a—</p> + +<p>"Weel, man, what is't ye want?"</p> + +<p>"Tuts, woman, come across—come across," said +Willie, wagging her towards him with his forefinger. +"I canna be roarin' out what I hae to say to ye a' that +distance. I micht as weel cry it oot at the cross. See, +there's something to bring ye a wee nearer."</p> + +<p>And he held out several small silver coin through +the bars of the gate. The production of the cash had +the desired effect. The old woman, who was lame, and +who walked by the aid of a short thick stick with a +crooked head, hobbled towards him, and, having +accepted the proffered coin, again asked, though +with much more civility than before, what it was he +wanted?</p> + +<p>"Tuts, woman, open the yett," said Willie in his +cagiest manner, "and I'll tell ye a' aboot it. It's +hardly ceevil to be keeping a body speakin' this way +wi' his nose thrust through atwixt twa cauld bars o' +airn, like a rattin atween a pair o' tangs."</p> + +<p>"Some folks are safest that way, though," replied +the old woman, with something like an attempt at a +laugh. "Bars o' airn are amang the best freens we +hae sometimes. But as ye seem a civil sort o' a chiel, +after a', I'll let ye in, although I dinna see what ye'll +be the better o' that."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>So saying, she took a large iron key from her girdle, +inserted it in the lock, and in the next moment the +gate grated on its hinges; yielding partly to the pressure +of Willie from without, and partly to the co-operative +efforts of the old woman from within.</p> + +<p>"Noo," said Willie, on gaining the interior of the +courtyard—"Noo," he said, affecting his most coaxing +manner, "you and me 'll hae a bit crack thegither, +guidwife."</p> + +<p>And, sitting down on a stone bench that ran along +the front of the house, he motioned to the old lady to +take a seat beside him, which she did.</p> + +<p>"I understand, guidwife," began Willie, who meant +to be very cunning in his mode of procedure, "that +she's just an uncommon bonny leddy your mistress; +just wonderfu'."</p> + +<p>"Whaever tell't ye that, didna misinform ye," replied +the old woman drily.</p> + +<p>"And has mints o' siller?" rejoined Mr. Buchanan.</p> + +<p>"No ill aff in that way either," said the old woman.</p> + +<p>"But it's her beauty—it's her extraordinary beauty—that's +the wonder, and that I hear everybody speakin' +aboot," said Willie. "I wad gie the price o' sax fat +hens to see her. Could ye no get me a glisk o' her ony +way, just for ae minute?"</p> + +<p>"Didna I tell ye before that she's no at hame?" said +the old dame, threatening again to get restive on Willie's +hands.</p> + +<p>"Od, so ye did; I forgot," said Mr. Buchanan, +affecting obliviousness of the fact. "Whaur may she +be noo?" he added in his simplest and <i>couthiest</i> +manner.</p> + +<p>"Wad ye like to ken?" replied the old lady with a +satirical sneer.</p> + +<p>"'Deed wad I; and there's mae than me wad like to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +ken," replied Willie; "and them that wad pay handsomely +for the information."</p> + +<p>"Really," said the old dame, with a continuation of the +same sneer, and long ere this guessing what Willie was +driving at. "And wha may they be noo, if I may speer?"</p> + +<p>"They're gey kenspeckled," replied Mr. Buchanan; +"but that doesna matter. If ye canna, or winna tell +me whaur Mistress Craig is, could ye no gie's a bit inklin' +o' whan ye expect her hame?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I'll gie ye a bit inklin o' whan ye'll walk +oot o' this," said the old woman, rising angrily from +her seat; "and that's this minute, or I'll set the dug on +ye. Hisk, hisk—Teeger, Teeger!"</p> + +<p>And a huge black dog came bouncing out of the +house, and took up a position right in front of Willie; +wagging his tail, as if in anticipation of a handsome +treat in the way of worrying that worthy.</p> + +<p>"Gude sake, woman," said Willie, rising in great +alarm from his seat, and edging towards the outer gate—"What's +a' this for? Ye wadna set that brute on +a Christian cratur, wad ye?"</p> + +<p>"Wadna I? Ye'd better no try me, frien', but troop +aff wi' ye. Teeger," she added, with a significant look. +The dog understood it, and, springing on Willie, seized +him by one of the skirts of his coat, which, with one +powerful tug, he at once separated from the body.</p> + +<p>Pressed closely upon by both the dog and his mistress, +Willie keeping, however, his face to the foe, now +retreated towards the gate, when, just at the moment +of his making his exit, the old lady, raising her staff, +hit him a parting blow, which, taking effect on the +bridge of his nose, immediately enlarged the dimensions +of that organ, besides drawing forth a copious stream +of claret. In the next instant the gate was shut and +locked in the sufferer's face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Confound ye, ye auld limmer," shouted Willie +furiously, and shaking his fist through the bars of the +gate as he spoke, "if I had ye here on the outside o' +the yett, as ye're in the in, if I wadna baste the auld +hide o' ye. But my name's no Willie Buchanan if I +dinna gar ye rue this job yet, some way or anither."</p> + +<p>To these objurgations of the discomfited messenger +the old lady deigned no word of answer, but merely +shaking her head, and indulging in a pretty broad +smile of satisfaction, hobbled into the house, followed +by Tiger, wagging his tail, as much as to say, "I +think we've given yon fellow a fright, mistress."</p> + +<p>Distracted with indignation and resentment, Willie +hastened back to the castle, and, too much excited to +think of his outward appearance, hurried into the royal +presence with his skirtless coat and disfigured countenance, +which he had by no means improved by sundry +wipes with the sleeve of his coat.</p> + +<p>On Willie making his appearance in this guise, the +merry monarch looked at him for an instant in silent +amazement, then burst into an incontrollable fit of +laughter, which the grave, serious look of Willie +showed he by no means relished. There was even a +slight expression of resentment in the manner in which +the maltreated messenger bore the merry reception of +his light-hearted master.</p> + +<p>"Willie, man," at length said James, when his mirth +had somewhat subsided, "what's this has happened +thee? Where gottest thou that enormous nose, man?"</p> + +<p>"Feth, your Majesty, it may be a joke to you, but +it's unco little o' ane to me," replied Willie, whose confidential +duties and familiar intercourse with his royal +master had led him to assume a freedom of speech +which was permitted to no other, and which no other +would have dared to attempt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hae gotten sic a worryin' the day," he continued, +"as I never got in my life before. Between dugs and +auld wives, I hae had a bonny time o't. Worried by +the tane and smashed by the tither, as my nose and my +coat-tails bear witness."</p> + +<p>"Explain yourself, Willie. What does all this +mean?" exclaimed James, again laughing.</p> + +<p>Willie told his story, finishing with the information +that the bird was flown—meaning Jessie Craig. "Aff +and awa, naebody kens, or'll tell whaur."</p> + +<p>"Off—away!" exclaimed the king, with an air of +mingled disappointment and surprise. "Very odd," +he added, musingly; "and most particularly unlucky. +But we shall wait on a day or two, and she will probably +reappear in that time; or we may find out where +she has gone to."</p> + +<p>On the day following that on which the incidents +just related occurred, the curiosity of the good people +in the neighbourhood of the late Mr. Craig's house in +Rottenrow was a good deal excited by seeing a person +in the dress of a gentleman hovering about the residence +just alluded to.</p> + +<p>Anon he would walk to and fro in front of the house, +looking earnestly towards the windows. Now he would +descend the Deanside Brae, and do the same by those +behind. Again he would return to the front of the +mansion, and taking up his station on the opposite side +of the street, would resume his scrutiny of the windows.</p> + +<p>The stranger was thus employed, when he was startled +by the appearance of some one advancing towards him, +whom, it was evident, he would fain have avoided if he +could. But it was too late. There was no escape. So, +assuming an air of as much composure and indifference +as he could, he awaited the approach of the unwelcome +intruder. This person was Sir Robert Lindsay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>Coming up to the stranger with a respectful air, and +with an expression of countenance as free from all +consciousness as that which had been assumed by the +former—</p> + +<p>"I hope your Grace is well?" he said, bowing profoundly +as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Provost—thank you," replied James; +for we need hardly say it was he.</p> + +<p>"Your Grace has doubtless come hither," said the +former gravely, "to enjoy the delightful view which +this eminence commands?"</p> + +<p>"The precise purpose, Sir Robert," replied James, +recovering a little from the embarrassment which, after +all his efforts, he could not entirely conceal. "The +view is truly a fine one, Provost," continued the king. +"I had no idea that your good city could boast of +anything so fair in the way of landscape. Our city +of Edinburgh hath more romantic points about it; +but for calm and tranquil beauty, methinks it hath +nothing superior to the scene commanded by this +eminence."</p> + +<p>"There are some particular localities on the ridge of +the hill here, however," said Sir Robert, "that exhibit +the landscape to much better advantage than others, +and to which, taking it for granted that your Grace is +not over-familiar with the ground, it will afford me +much pleasure to conduct you."</p> + +<p>"Ah! thank you, good Sir Robert—thank you," +replied James. "But some other day, if you please. +The little spare time I had on my hands is about exhausted, +so that I must return to the castle. I have, +as you know, Sir Robert, to give audience to some of +your worthy councillors, who intend honouring me with +a visit.</p> + +<p>"Amongst the number I will expect to see yourself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +Sir Robert." And James, after politely returning the +loyal obeisance of the Provost, hurried away towards +the castle.</p> + +<p>On his departure, the latter stood for a moment, and +looked after him with a smile of peculiar intelligence; +then muttered, as he also left the spot—</p> + +<p>"Well do I know what it was brought your Grace +to this quarter of the town; and knowing this, I know +it was for anything but the sake of its view. Fair +maidens have more attractions in your eyes than all the +views between this and John o'Groat's. But I have +taken care that your pursuit in the present instance +will avail thee little." And the good Provost went on +his way.</p> + +<p>For eight entire days after this did James wait in +Glasgow for the return of Jessie Craig; but he waited +in vain. Neither in that time could he learn anything +whatever of the place of her sojournment. His patience +at length exhausted, he determined on giving up the pursuit +for the time at any rate, and on quitting the city.</p> + +<p>The king, as elsewhere casually mentioned, had +come last from Bothwell Castle. It was now his +intention to proceed to Stirling, where he proposed +stopping for two or three weeks; thence to Linlithgow, +and thereafter returning to Edinburgh.</p> + +<p>The purpose of James to make this round having +reached the ears of a certain Sir James Crawford of +Netherton, whose house and estate lay about half-way +between Glasgow and Stirling, that gentleman sent a +respectful message to James, through Sir Robert +Lindsay, to the effect that he would feel much gratified +if his Grace would deign to honour his poor +house of Netherton with a visit in passing, and accept +for himself and followers such refreshment as he could +put before them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>To this message James returned a gracious answer, +saying that he would have much pleasure in accepting +the invitation so kindly sent him, and naming the day +and hour when he would put the inviter's hospitality to +the test.</p> + +<p>Faithful to his promise, the king and his retinue, +amongst whom was now Sir Robert Lindsay, who had +been included in the invitation, presented themselves at +Netherton gate about noon on the day that had been +named.</p> + +<p>They were received with all honour by the proprietor, +a young man of prepossessing appearance, graceful +manners, and frank address.</p> + +<p>On the king and gentlemen of his train entering the +house, they were ushered into a large banqueting hall, +where was an ample table spread with the choicest +edibles, and glittering with the silver goblets and +flagons that stood around it in thick array. Everything, +in short, betokened at once the loyalty and great +wealth of the royal party's entertainer.</p> + +<p>The king and his followers having taken their places +at table, the fullest measure of justice was quickly done +to the good things with which it was spread. James +was in high spirits, and talked and rattled away with as +much glee and as entire an absence of all kingly reserve +as the humblest good fellow in his train.</p> + +<p>Encouraged by the affability of the king, and catching +his humour, the whole party gave way to the most +unrestrained mirth. The joke and the jest went merrily +round with the wine flagon; and he was for a +time the best man who could start the most jocund +theme.</p> + +<p>It was while this spirit prevailed that Sir Robert +Lindsay, after making a private signal to Sir James +Crawford, which had the effect of causing him to quit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +the apartment on pretence of looking for something he +wanted, addressing the king, said—</p> + +<p>"May I take the liberty of asking your Grace if you +have seen any particularly fair maidens in the course +of your present peregrinations? I know your Grace +has a good taste in these matters."</p> + +<p>James coloured a little at this question and the +remark which accompanied it; but quickly regaining +his self-possession and good-humour—</p> + +<p>"No, Sir Robert," he said, laughingly, "I cannot say +that I have been so fortunate on the present occasion. +As to the commendation which you have been pleased +to bestow on my taste, I thank you, and am glad it +meets with your approbation."</p> + +<p>"Yet, your Grace," continued Sir Robert, "excellent +judge as I know you to be of female beauty, I deem +myself, old and staid as I am, your Grace's equal, +craving your Grace's pardon; and, to prove this, will +take a bet with your Grace of a good round sum, that +you have never seen, and do not know, a more beautiful +woman than the lady of our present host."</p> + +<p>"Take care, Provost," replied James. "Make no +rash bets. I know the most beautiful maiden the sun +ever shone upon. But it would be ungallant and +ungracious to make the lady of our good host the +subject of such a bet on the present occasion."</p> + +<p>"But our host is absent, your Grace," replied the +Provost pertinaciously; "and neither he nor any one +else, but your Grace's friends present, need know anything +at all of the matter. Will your Grace take me +up for a thousand merks?"</p> + +<p>"But suppose I should," replied James, "how is the +thing to be managed? and who is to decide?"</p> + +<p>"Both points are of easy adjustment, your Grace," +said Sir Robert. "Your Grace has only to intimate a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +wish to our host, when he returns, that you would feel +gratified by his introducing his lady to you; and as to +the matter of decision, I would, with your Grace's permission +and approval, put that into the hands of the +gentlemen present. Of course, nothing need be said +of the purpose of this proceeding to either host or +hostess."</p> + +<p>"Well, be it so," said James, urged on by the madcaps +around him, who were delighted with the idea of +the thing. "Now then, gentlemen," he continued, +"the lady on whose beauty I stake my thousand +merks is Jessie Craig, the merchant's daughter, of +Glasgow, whom, I think, all of you have seen."</p> + +<p>"Ha! my townswoman," exclaimed Sir Robert, with +every appearance of surprise. "On my word, you +have made mine a hard task of it; for a fairer maiden +than Jessie Craig may not so readily be found. Nevertheless, +I adhere to the terms of my bet."</p> + +<p>The Provost had just done speaking, when Sir James +Crawford entered the apartment, and resumed his seat +at table. Shortly after he had done so, James, addressing +him, said—</p> + +<p>"Sir James, it would complete the satisfaction of +these gentlemen and myself with the hospitality you +have this day shown us, were you to afford us an +opportunity of paying our respects to your good +lady; that is, if it be perfectly convenient for and +agreeable to her."</p> + +<p>"Lady Crawford will be but too proud of the +honour, your Grace," replied Sir James, rising. "She +shall attend your Grace presently."</p> + +<p>Saying this, the latter again withdrew; and soon +after returned, leading a lady, over whose face hung a +long and flowing veil, into the royal presence.</p> + +<p>It would require the painter's art to express<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +adequately the looks of intense and eager interest +with which James and his party gazed on the veiled +beauty, as she entered the apartment and advanced +towards them. Their keen and impatient scrutiny +seemed as if it would pierce the tantalizing obstruction +that prevented them seeing those features on +whose beauty so large a sum had been staked. In +this state of annoying suspense, however, they were +not long detained. On approaching within a few +paces of the king, and at the moment Sir James +Crawford said, with a respectful obeisance, "My wife, +Lady Crawford, your Grace," she raised her veil, and +exhibited to the astonished monarch and his courtiers +a surpassingly beautiful countenance indeed; but it was +that of Jessie Craig.</p> + +<p>"A trick! a trick!" exclaimed James, with merry +shout, and amidst a peal of laughter from all present, +and in which the fair cause of all this stir most cordially +joined. "A trick, a trick, Provost! a trick!" +repeated James.</p> + +<p>"Nay, no trick at all, your Grace, craving your +Grace's pardon," replied the Provost gravely. "Your +Grace betted that Jessie Craig was more beautiful than +Lady Crawford. Now, is it so? I refer the matter, as +agreed upon, to the gentlemen around us."</p> + +<p>"Lost! lost!" exclaimed half a dozen gallants at +once.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, gentlemen, since you so decide," said +James, "I will instantly give our good Provost here an +order upon our treasurer for the sum."</p> + +<p>"Nay, your Grace, not so fast. The money is as +safe in your hands as mine. Let it there remain till I +require it. When I do, I shall not fail to demand it."</p> + +<p>"Be it so, then," said James, when, placing his fair +hostess beside him, and after obtaining a brief explana<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>tion—which +we will, in the sequel, give at more length—of +the odd circumstance of finding Jessie Craig converted +into Lady Crawford, the mirth and hilarity of +the party were resumed, and continued till pretty far in +the afternoon, when the king and his courtiers took +horse,—the former at parting having presented his +hostess with a massive gold chain which he wore +about his neck, in token of his good wishes,—and rode +off for Stirling.</p> + +<p>To our tale we have now only to add the two or +three explanatory circumstances above alluded to.</p> + +<p>In Sir James Crawford the reader is requested to +recognise the young man who discovered Jessie Craig, +then the unknown fair one, by the side of the fountain +in the little elm grove at Woodlands.</p> + +<p>Encouraged by and acting on the adage already +quoted,—namely, that "faint heart never won fair +lady,"—he followed up his first accidental interview +with the fair fugitive from royal importunity with +an assiduity that in one short week accomplished the +wooing and winning of her.</p> + +<p>While the first was in progress, Sir James was informed +by the young lady of the reasons for her +concealment. On this and the part Sir Robert +Lindsay had acted towards her being made known +to him, he lost no time in opening a communication +with that gentleman, riding repeatedly into Glasgow +himself to see him on the subject of his fair charge; at +the same time informing him of the attachment he had +formed for her, and finally obtaining his consent, or at +least approbation, to their marriage. The bet, we need +hardly add, was a concerted joke between the Provost, +Sir James, and his lady.</p> + +<p>When we have added that the circumstance of Sir +Robert Lindsay's delay in returning for Jessie Craig,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +which excited so much surprise at Woodlands, was +owing to the unlooked-for prolongation of the king's +stay in Glasgow, we think we have left nothing unexplained +that stood in need of such aid.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BRIDE_OF_BELLS_TOWER" id="THE_BRIDE_OF_BELLS_TOWER"></a>THE BRIDE OF BELL'S TOWER.</h2> + + +<p>Some time ago I made inquiry at the editor of <i>Notes +and Queries</i> for information as to the whereabouts of +an old mansion called Bell's Tower, and whether it +was occupied by a family of the name of Bower; but +my inquiry was not attended with any success beyond +the usual production of surmises and speculations. +There was a place so called in Perthshire; but then it +never was occupied by people of that name,—the +Bowers being an old family in Angus, whose principal +messuage was Kincaldrum. Yet I cannot be mistaken +in the name, either of the house or the family, as +connected with the occurrences of the tradition, the +essentials of which have floated in my mind ever since +I heard them from one to whom they were also traditional. +Then the story has something of an antique air +about it, as may be noticed from the application of adjectives +to baptismal names, as Devil Isobel and Sweet +Marjory,—by no means a modern usage, but easily +recognised in analogues of our old poetry. We may +say, at least, that whether the Bowers were a very or +only a moderately ancient family, Bell's Tower was an +old structure—the name being applied to the mansion, +which was an addition to a peel or castle-house of +many centuries—not without its battlements and barnkin, +and all the other appurtenances of a strength, as +such places were called.</p> + +<p>Had we more to do than our subject requires with +the <i>physique</i> of this mansion—and we have something;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +for what romance in the moral world is independent +of a <i>locale</i>, and of those lights and shadows that play +where men live and act all the wondrous things they +do?—we might be particular in our description; but +our narrator's shade will be sufficiently conciliated, if +we say that there was room enough, and ill-lighted +chambers enough, and sufficiently tortuous breakneck +stairs here and there, as well as those peculiar to +castles, lobbies in all conscience long enough—not +forgetting a blue parlour with some mysterious associations—to +supply elements for genius to weave the +many-coloured web of fiction. But we have a humbler +part to play; and it begins here,—that Mrs. Bower +had in the said blue parlour, a fortnight before our +incidents, told her eldest daughter, whom we are, for +the sake of the antique nomenclature—discriminative, +and therefore kindly, if also sometimes harsh—to call +Sweet Marjory, a piece of information, to her unexpected +and strange,—no other than that Isobel, her +sister, was the accepting and accepted of the rich and +chivalrous youth, Hector Ogilvy, a neighbouring laird's +son. Nor would it have appeared wonderful, if we +had known more of the inside of that heaving breast, +wherein a heart was too obedient to those magic +chords, with their minute capillaries spread over the +tympanum, that Marjory was as mute and pale as a +statue of marble. But the truth really was, that +Ogilvy had courted Marjory, and won her heart, and +Isobel—Devil Isobel—had contrived means to win him +to herself, at the expense of a sister's reputation for +all the beautiful qualities that adorn human nature. +And as all the world knows that both men and women +hate those they injure, we may be at no loss to ascertain +the feelings by which Isobel regarded Marjory. +Nor shall those who know the nature of woman have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +any difficulty in supposing that not more carefully does +nature guard in the bosom the physical organ of the +affections, than she concealed the feelings which had +for that fortnight eaten into the vital tissues of her +being.</p> + +<p>How swiftly that fortnight had flown for Isobel! +how charged with heavy hours for Marjory! and to-morrow +was the eventful day. What doings in Bell's +Tower during this intervening time! what pattering of +feet along the sombre lobbies! what gossiping among +servants! what applications to the gate—comings and +goings! and the rooms, how bestrewn with clippings +of silk, and stray bits of artificial flowers! And, amidst +all the triumphing, Isobel displayed her nature in spite +of old saws and maxims, which lay upon brides conditions +of reserve and humility, held to be so becoming +in those who, as it were, occupy the place of a sacrifice; +yea, if some tears are shed, so much better is custom +obeyed. Then where could Marjory go, in the midst +of this confusion of gaiety?—where, as the poet says, +"weep her woes" in secret, and listen to the throbbings +of a broken heart? Not in her own room, in the +lower part of the castle tower, where her mother had +still the privilege of chiding her for throwing the +shadows of melancholy over a scene of happiness, and +where Isobel would force an entrance, to show her, in +the very spite of her evil nature, some bridal present +from him who was still to the deserted one the idol of +her heart. There was scarcely a refuge for grief, +where joy was impatient of check, and, like all tyrants, +would force reluctant conditions into a unanimity of +compliance; but up these castle stairs, in the second +room, there was one whom time had shut out from the +sympathies of the world, so old, as to be almost forgotten, +except by Marjory herself, who, all gentleness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +and love, delighted to supply vacant hearts with the +fervours of her friendship, and to ameliorate evils by +the appliances of her humanity.</p> + +<p>With languid step she ascended the stair, and was +presently beside her great-grandaunt, Patricia Bower. +Twilight was dropping her wing, and the shadows were +fast collecting round the square windows, which, narrow +and grated, would scarcely at noonday let in light enough +to enliven the human eye. There, solitary and in the +gloom, sat the creature of the prior century, whose birth +could only be arrived at by going through generations +back ninety and five years before; but not gloom to her, +to whom the light of memory was as a necromancer, +arraying before the gleg eye of her spirit the images of +persons and things and circumstances of the far past, +with all the vividness of enchantment, and still even +raising again those very loves and sympathies they +elicited when they were of the passing hour. Yet the +doings in this house of Bell's Tower at the time, so far +removed from the period of the living archetypes of her +dreams, had got to her ear, where still the word marriage +was a charm, against which the dry impassable +nerve resisted in vain.</p> + +<p>"I will go to this marriage, Marjory," she said, as +the maiden entered, and without appearing to notice +her distress.</p> + +<p>"No, aunt," replied Marjory, as she sat down opposite +to her.</p> + +<p>"And shall I not?" continued the ancient maiden, +as her eyes seemed to come forward out of the deep +sockets into which they had long sunk, and emitted an +unearthly lustre. "And shall I not? It is four times +a score of years bating five since I was at a bridal; +and when all were waiting, ay, Marjory, expecting the +young bridegroom, the door was opened, and four men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +carried in Walter Ogilvy's bleeding corpse, and laid +him in the bridal hall; for he had been stabbed by a +rival in the Craig Glen, down by there; and where +could they take the body but to Bell's Tower, where +his bride waited for him? But she did not go mad, +Sweet Marjory; no, no."</p> + +<p>And as the image grew more distinct in the internal +chambers, so did the eyes shine more lustrously, like +stars peering through between grey clouds; and the +shrivelled muscles, obeying once more the excited +nerve, imparted to her almost the appearance of youth. +Gradually a humming tone essayed to take form in +words; but the wavering treble disconcerted her, till, +calming herself by some effort, she recited, in solemn +see-saw—</p> + +<p> +"The guests they came from the grey mountain side,—<br /> +The bride she was fair, and the bride she was fain;<br /> +But where was the lover, who sought not his bride?<br /> +Oh! a maid she is now, as a maid she was then;<br /> +And her cheek it is pale, and her hair it is grey,<br /> +Since the long long time of her bridal day."<br /> +</p> + +<p>The last line descended into a quavering whisper.</p> + +<p>With the effusion, adopted probably from an old ditty, +and brought forth from its long-retaining chamber of +the brain by the inspiration of one of her often-returning +visions, the fervour of the tasked spirit died away, +and, reclining her head, she sat before the wondering +Marjory—who had heard, as a tale of the family, and +applicable to Patricia herself, the circumstances she had +related—as one suspended between death and life; nor +did it seem that it required more than a rude vibration +to decide to which of the two worlds she would in +a few minutes belong. Only a short time sufficed to +restore her to her ordinary composure, and, waving her +shrivelled hand, she said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Open the door to the bartisan, Marjory, that I may +have air, and see the moon, who, amidst all the changes +of life, is ever the same to the miserable and the happy."</p> + +<p>Marjory obeyed her; and as she looked forth, the +moon was rising over the tops of the trees, as if to chase +away the envious shades, ready to follow the departure +of twilight. There was solace in her soft splendour for +the melancholy of the youthful girl, which might be +ameliorated by a turn of fortune, as well as for the +sadness of her aged friend, which was not only beyond +the influence of worldly change, but so like the forecast +gloom of the grave, as if the inexorable tyrant, long +disappointed, was already rejoicing in his victim. But +no sooner was the door casement opened, than the sound +of voices entered. Then Marjory stepped out on the bartisan, +not to listen, for her spirit was superior to artifice; +and, leaning over the bartisan, she soon recognised the +voices of Isobel and Ogilvy; nor could she escape the +words—</p> + +<p>"I loved her for her own sake," said he, "before I +loved you, Isobel; and now I love her as your sister. +But I shall have no peace in my wedded life with you, +save on the condition that you love her also; for my +conscience tells me I have not done by Sweet Marjory +what is deemed according to the honour of man. You +see what your power has been, Isobel. Nor would I +have spoken thus on the very evening before our wedding, +were it not that I have heard you do not love her, +nay, that you hate her."</p> + +<p>Then Marjory heard Devil Isobel reply; and she +knew by the voice that she was in anger, though she +cunningly repressed her passion.</p> + +<p>"Believe them not," said Isobel. "By the pale face +of yonder moon, and all those bright stars that are +coming out one by one to add honour upon honour to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +this evening, the last of my maiden life, I love sweet +Marjory Bower; and I swear by Him who made all +these heavenly orbs, that I shall love her as a sister +ought."</p> + +<p>"It pleases me much to hear my Isobel speak thus," +said Ogilvy. "And hark ye, love, I have here a valuable +locket, set with diamonds and opals—see, it contains +the grey hair of my mother; and, will I or nill I, +she will send this by me to Marjory as a love-token. +Now I want to convey it to Sweet Marjory through +you, because it will make you a party to the love-gift, +and so bind us all in a circle of affection."</p> + +<p>"Give it me," cried Isobel, fixing her piercing eye +on the diamonds as they sparkled in the moonlight; +"and, on the honour of a bride, I will give it to my +sister, whom I love so dearly."</p> + +<p>And Isobel continued to speak; but the movement +of the lovers as they walked prevented Marjory from +hearing more. Still she followed them with her weeping +eyes, as their figures, clearly revealed to her by +the moon, glided among the wide-standing trees of the +lawn, and at length disappeared. The moon had now +less solace for her. Her wound had been retouched +by a hand of all others calculated to irritate, even by +that of Ogilvy himself, who, she now knew, felt compunction +for the cruelty of his desertion. His regret +was too late to save her sorrow, but it was not too late +to increase that sorrow; for the words by which he +had uttered it reminded her, in their tone, of that +unctuous luxury he had so often poured into her +heart, and which, in their sincerity, were so unlike +the dissimulation of her wicked sister. With a deep-drawn +sigh she entered the bartisan casement, shut it +after her, and having spoken some kindly words to her +aunt, whom she kissed, she sought her way down the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +bastle stair to her own room below. There she threw +herself upon a couch, not to seek assuagement, but +only to give rest to limbs that would scarcely support +her. Nor did the closed door keep from her ear those +notes of preparation, coming in so many shapes; for +there was, in addition to the customary rites of the +great sacrifice, to be a sumptuous feast, at which, too, +she would be expected to attend. Yet all these noisy +tokens did not keep from her mind the tones of that +remorse she had heard from the lips of Ogilvy, and +she fondled them, in her misery, as one would the +dead body of a dear friend on whose face still sat the +look of love in which he died. By-and-by she heard +once more the voice of Isobel, who had returned; and +she trembled as she expected the visit in execution of +her commission. The door opened, and there entered +her sister, with a face, as it appeared in the light of +the lamp she carried, beaming with the old exultation, +mingled with the smile of a soft deceit.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Sweet Marjory," she said, as she held +out the golden trinket. "Saw you ever so lovely a +piece of workmanship? But you cannot discern its +value till you know it contains a lock of the hair of +<i>my</i> mother-in-law-to-be—Mrs. Ogilvy. That locket +was given to me even now by my Hector, the bridegroom——"</p> + +<p>"To give to me," sighed Marjory faintly.</p> + +<p>"You lie for a false fiend," cried Devil Isobel. "He +gave it to me, and to me it belongs."</p> + +<p>"You may keep it," said Marjory; "but I heard +Hector Ogilvy say to you that it was a gift from his +mother to me, and you promised to him to deliver it."</p> + +<p>Isobel's lips turned white and whiter, as her eye +flared with the internal light struck out of the quivering +nerve by the brain inflamed by fury. Nor was it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +the detection alone that produced these effects: she +had construed Ogilvy's confession that he once loved +Marjory into an admission that the latter was still dear +to him, and she considered herself justified in her suspicion +by the tones of his regret; then there had shot +through her the pang of envy, when she heard that +there was a gift for Marjory from the mother, and +none to her. All these pent-up passions had been +quickened into expression by Marjory's gentle detection; +and as Marjory looked at her, she trembled.</p> + +<p>"Do not be angry at me, Isobel," she said. "I did +not go out upon the bartisan to hear you; and as for +the gift, I do not want it."</p> + +<p>But Marjory's simplicity and generosity, in place of +appeasing her passion, only gave it a turn into a forced +stifling, which suited the purpose of her dissimulation. +In an instant the evil features, which, as a moral expression, +had changed her into hideousness, gave way, +and she stood before her sister the beautiful being who +had enchanted Ogilvy out of his first and purest love.</p> + +<p>"Come, Marjory," she said, as she grasped the faint +hand of the almost unresisting girl. "Come."</p> + +<p>And leading her by a half-dragging effort out of the +room and along the passages, she took her to the large +hall, where servants were busy laying the long table +for the feast.</p> + +<p>"There will be seventy here," she said, "and all to +do honour to me. How would <i>you</i> have liked it, Sweet +Marjory? You do not envy me, though you look so +sad? But oh! there is more honour for me. Come." +And still, with the application of something like force, +she led Marjory out by the front door towards the lawn, +where a number of men were, with the light of pine +torches, piling up fagots over layers of pitch. The +glare of the torches was thrown over the dark bastle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +house, and under the relief of the deep shadows, where +the light of the moon did not penetrate, was romantic +enough even for the taste of Isobel, whose spirit ever +panted for display. To add to the effect, the men were +jolly; for their supply of ale had been ample, and the +occasion of a marriage in the house of the Bowers warranted +a merriment which was acceptable to her for +whom all these expensive preparations were made.</p> + +<p>"This is the marriage-pile, Marjory," said Isobel. +"I am not to be put upon it after the manner of +Jephthah's daughter; but it will blaze up to the sky, +and tell the gods and goddesses that there is one to be +honoured here on earth. How would <i>you</i> have liked +that honour, Marjory? But you are not envious. Come, +there is more."</p> + +<p>And as she was leading Marjory away, an exclamation +from one of the men attracted their attention. On +turning round, they saw the men's faces, lighted up by +the torches, all directed to the bastle tower on which +the glare shone full and red. Their merriment was +gone, to give place to the feeling of awe; nor did a +syllable escape from their lips. The eyes of the sisters +followed those of the men, and were in like manner +riveted.</p> + +<p>"It is the wraith bride o' the peel," said the old +forester. "She gaes round about and round about. +My mither saw it thirty years syne, when the laird +brought hame his leddy; and we ken he broke his leg +in coming off his horse to help her down. I have +heard her say</p> + +<p> +'There's evil for the house o' Bower,<br /> +When the bride gaes round the bastle tower.'"<br /> +</p> + +<p>"You are a lying knave," cried Isobel. "It is that old +cantrup-working witch, Patricia Bower, who should have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +been burnt with tar-barrels and tormented by prickers +fifty years ago. Nor ghost, nor ghoul, nor demon or +devil, shall come between me and my happy destiny."</p> + +<p>A speech which, spoken in excitement, was cheered +by all the men but the unfortunate forester; for, as we +have said, they were merry with ale. And they knew +by report, as they now saw with their eyes, the beauty +of the young woman, who, in addition to her natural +charms, appeared, as they whirled the torches round +their heads, and the cheers rose and echoed in the +woods, to be invested with the dignity of a queen. +But as this natural enthusiasm died down, they turned +again their wondering eyes to the bastle house; and as +the figure still went round the bartisan and round the +bartisan, they looked at each other, and shook their +heads with a motion which appeared very grotesque in +the glare of the torches. At length it disappeared, and +they began again to pile the fagots, now in silence, and +not with the merry words and snatches of their prior +humour, as if each of them had foreseen some evil +which he could not define.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Isobel had again seized Marjory, to continue +the round of her triumphs.</p> + +<p>"We will now go to my boudoir, nor mind that +witch," she said, "and I will show you all the presents +I have got from my neighbours and friends. Oh! they +are so fine, that did I not know that you are not envious, +I would fear that you would tear my eyes out. +Oh, but look, there is Ogilvy's horse standing waiting +for him to carry him home, and I shall see him only +this once before I am made his wife." Then, pausing +and becoming meditative, she led her sister into the +shade of a gigantic elm, the stem of which sufficed to +conceal them from observers. "Kneel down," she continued +in a stern tone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why so?" replied Marjory, trembling with fear, +yet obeying instinctively.</p> + +<p>"Swear," cried Isobel, "that you will not, before +Ogilvy, contradict what I shall say to him about his +mother's gift. Swear."</p> + +<p>"I swear," replied the sister.</p> + +<p>And rising up, her hand was again grasped by Isobel, +as she led her forward to where the horse stood. Nor +had they proceeded many paces, when Ogilvy himself +was observed coming forward. He could see them by +the light of the torches, as they saw him; and upon +the instant, Isobel, clasping Marjory in her arms, kissed +her with all the fervency of love.</p> + +<p>"How pleasant this is to me," said Ogilvy, as he came +up equipped and spurred for his ride, "to see you so +loving and sisterly!"</p> + +<p>"Did I not swear by Dian and the stars I would love +her?" said Devil Isobel; "and is she not called Sweet +Marjory?"</p> + +<p>"Sweet she is," said he, as he timidly scanned the +face of his first love, and pressed her hand; but his +countenance changed as he felt the silky-skinned hand +of the girl tremble within his, as if it shrunk from the +touch, and saw her blue eyes turned on the ground, and +heard a sigh steal from her breast. A feeling that was +new to him thrilled through the circle of his nerves, and +made him tremble to the centre of his being. He had +never calculated upon that strange emotion, nor could +he analyze it: it was inscrutable, but it was terrible; +it was not simply a return of his own love under the +restraint of the new one, neither was it simple remorse, +but a mixture of various thrills which induced no purpose, +but only rendered him uncertain, feeble, and +miserable. So engrossed for a moment was he, that +he did not even seek the eye of Isobel, who was watch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>ing +him in every turn of his countenance. Then he +would seek some relief in words.</p> + +<p>"You have my mother's love at least, Marjory," he +said; and he could not help saying it. "And I shall +be pleased to see you wear her gift, which she sent to +you through me, who gave it to Isobel."</p> + +<p>Marjory was silent, and Ogilvy turned his eye upon +Isobel.</p> + +<p>"She rejects it," said Isobel, "and wishes me to +return it."</p> + +<p>"Rejects it!" ejaculated the youth, as he again looked +at Marjory.</p> + +<p>Marjory was still silent, and her eyes were even more +timidly turned to the ground.</p> + +<p>"I did not regard the gift as valuable for the brilliants +and opals," continued he, "but as conveying the +love of my mother; and surely Marjory cannot reject +that love."</p> + +<p>Yet still was Marjory silent, for she had sworn.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is frightened, poor Sweet Marjory," cried +Isobel, with a satirical laugh; "for she has seen the +wraith bride on the bastle tower."</p> + +<p>"The wraith bride!" responded Ogilvy, relapsing +into silence, and instinctively looking round him, where +only glared the torchlight among the trees of the lawn, +and the dark bodies of the fagot-pilers were moving +backwards and forwards. He had heard the couplet +mentioned by the forester, and had of course viewed it +as a play of superstition; but reason is a weak thing +in the grasp of feeling, and now he was all feeling. +The remorse of which he had had premonitions, had +now taken him as a fit. His eye sought Marjory's +down-turned face, and shrunk from Isobel's watchful +stare; but the direction of that organ did not form an +index to his mind, for his fancy was, even during these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +swift instants, busy weaving the many-coloured web of +the future of his married life, and clouding it with +sombre shades; nor did the active agent hesitate to +draw materials from the past fortunes of the house of +Bell's Tower, and mix them up as things yet to be repeated. +Even the wraith bride performed her part +now, where she had feeling to help her weakness, and +set her up among realities.</p> + +<p>At this critical juncture of Ogilvy's thoughts, there +came up from the mansion good Dame Bower herself, +of portly corporation, often resonant of a comfortable +laugh; and now, when flushed with the exercise of her +domestic superintendence, looking the very picture of +the joyous mother of a happy bride.</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten," she said as she approached, "to +ask you to convey my thanks to Dame Ogilvy for that +beautiful locket with her hair therein—more precious, +I ween, than the diamonds and opals, though these, I'm +told, are worth five thousand good merks—which she +has so thoughtfully sent to Isobel."</p> + +<p>"Isobel!" ejaculated Ogilvy, fixing his eye on the +face of his bride, where there were no blushes to reveal +the consciousness of deceit. "To Isobel!" he repeated; +"and did Isobel say this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the mother.</p> + +<p>"It is false," cried the damsel, precipitated by anger +into the terrible imputation.</p> + +<p>The mother stood aghast, and Marjory held her head +away.</p> + +<p>"Speak, Marjory," said Ogilvy, with lips that in an +instant had become white and parched.</p> + +<p>"I have sworn," said Marjory.</p> + +<p>"And dare not speak?" said Ogilvy. Then a deep +gloom spread over his face, his eye flashed with a sudden +flame. He spoke not a word more; but, vaulting into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +the saddle, he drove his spurs into the side of his horse, +and rode off. As he passed the fagot-hewers, he saw +them clustered together, and heard high words among +them, with names of so potent a charm to him, that, +even in his confusion and speed, he could not drive +them from his mind. These names were, Sweet Marjory +and Devil Isobel.</p> + +<p>And as if the words had entered the rowels and +made them sharper, his horse reared, and he sped on +with a whirling tumult in his brain, but yet without +uttering a word—nor even to himself did he mutter a +remark—still urging his steed, yet unconscious that +his journey's end would bring no assuagement of that +tumult, nor mean of extricating him from his strange +and perilous predicament. Nor was he aware of the +speed of his riding, or how far he had gone, till he +came to some huts in the outskirts of the Craigwood, +which bounds the domain of Bell's Tower on the west, +where he saw some cottagers assembled at a door, and +again heard words which pierced his ear—no other +than those of his own marriage. Again urged by +curiosity, he put the question,</p> + +<p>"Whom do you speak of, good folks?"</p> + +<p>"Sweet Marjory," said one; and another added, +"Devil Isobel."</p> + +<p>Fain would he have asked more—these were not to +him more than sufficient; but pride interposed, and +fear aided pride, and away he again sped even at a +still quicker pace. Never before had he been so agitated: +fear, anger, or remorse had never ruffled the +tenor of an existence which passed amidst rural avocations +and unsophisticated pleasures,—knew nothing of +intrigue, falsehood, or dissimulation—those parasitic +plagues that follow the societies of men. The moon +that shone over his head was as placid and beautiful,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +and forest and wold as quiet, as they used to be when +his mind was a reflection of the peace that was without; +but now, as he rode on and on, wild images arose +from the roused autonomy of the spirit, and seemed to +be impressed by fire,—the face of Isobel reflecting the +light of the moon, and those eyes which, looking up, +were in their own expression an adjuration similar to +that pronounced by her lips, that she would obey him, +and deliver the diamond gift to its rightful owner; +then the same eyes when, inflamed by the fire of her +wrath, she called her mother a liar, and proved her +own falsehood, while she cast off the duty of a daughter. +But through all glided the face of Sweet Marjory, +with its mildness, beneficence, and timidity; and the +eye that, quailing under her sister's tyranny, looked so +lovingly in the face of the mother, but dared not chide +him who had been false to her. He felt within him +that revolution from one feeling to its opposite, which, +when it begins in the mind, is so energetic and startling. +His love for Isobel—which had been a frenzy, +tearing him from another love which had been a sweet +dream—began to undergo the wonderful change: her +beauty faded before a moral expression which waxed +hideous, and grew up in these passing moments into a +direct contrast with the gentle loveliness of her sister, +which, coming from the heart, beamed through features +fitted to enhance it. Nor could he stop this revolution +of his sentiments, the full effect of which, aggravated +by remorse, shook his frame, as his horse bounded, and +added to the turmoil within him. Yet ever the words +came from his quivering lips—"Am I fated to be the +husband of Devil Isobel? Is Sweet Marjory destined +to bless the nuptial bed of another?" And at every +repetition he unconsciously drove the spur into the sides +of his now foaming steed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>But whither all this hot haste—whither was he +flying? To his home, where he knew that his mother +condemned his choice, though her delicacy had limited +her dissatisfaction to that strange but pregnant expression, +whereby she had sent her most valuable jewel to +her whom she valued and loved, and whom, in the +madness of fascination, he had left to sorrow, if not to +heartbreaking—perhaps death. He felt that he behoved +to be home to make certain preparations for his +appearance on the morrow, as a bridegroom by the +side of Isobel Bower; and yet he felt that he could not +face his mother under the feelings which now ruled +him, and the very weakness of his resolution prompted +the device of tarrying by the way until she should have +gone to bed. He knew where to watch her chamber +light, and he began to draw the rein. Yet how unconscious +he was of a peculiarity of that power that had +been for some time working within him!—yea, even +remorse, who, true to her unfailing purpose, was +moulding his heart into that yearning to visit the +victim on which she insists for ever as a condition of +peace to the betrayer. He had come to the cross-road +leading eastwards; and even while muttering his purpose +of merely prolonging the period of his home-going, +he was twitching the rein to the right, so that the +obedient steed turned and carried him forward at the +old speed. Whither now, versatile and remorseful +youth? From this eastern road there goes off, a +couple of miles forward, a rough track, leading to the +mansion he had so recently left. And it was not long +ere he reached the point of turn. Nor was he even +decided when there, that he would again draw the rein +to the right. But if he was master of his horse, he was +not master of himself: the rough track was taken, and +Ogilvy was in full swing to Bell's Tower. He did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +know that it is only when the act is accomplished that +one thinks of the decrees of Fate, though it is true that +the purposes of man are equally fated in their beginnings, +when reason is battling against feeling, as in +their termination. In how short time was he in the +pine wood, behind the house, where were his bane, and +perhaps his antidote, though he could not divine the +latter! And he trembled as through the trees he saw +the flitting lights, as they came and went past the +windows, indicating the joy of preparation: not for +these he looked, only for one, sombre and steady, +like Melancholy's dull eye, wherein no tear glistens. +Leaving his horse tied to a pine stem, Ogilvy was in +an instant kneeling at the low casement at the foot of +the bastle house, where glimmered that light for which +he had been so intensely looking.</p> + +<p>Was it that grief, forced into an excitement foreign +to its lonely, self-indulgent nature, wooed the evening +air, to cool by the open window the fever of her slow-throbbing +veins? Certain it is at least that Marjory +Bower expected no salutation from without at that hour.</p> + +<p>"Sweet Marjory, will you listen to one who once +dared to love you, and who has now sorrow at his +heart, yet Heaven's wrath will not send forth lightnings +to kill?"</p> + +<p>"What terrible words are these?" replied the +maiden, as she took her hand from her brow and +looked in the direction of the open casement.</p> + +<p>"Not those," replied he, "which are winged with the +hope of a bridegroom. But I am miserable! Marjory +Bower, I loved you, and you returned my love; I deserted +you, and you never even gloomed on me; and +I am now the bridegroom of your sister,—ay, your +sister, Devil Isobel! Will you give me hope if I break +off this marriage?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nay," rejoined she; "that cannot be. You have +gone too far to go back with honour."</p> + +<p>"Or forward with any hope of happiness," said he. +"But I will brave all your father's anger, Isobel's revenge, +and my loss of honour, if you will consent to be +mine within a year."</p> + +<p>"Nay," repeated the maid with a sigh. "Out of my +unhappiness may come the happiness of others. Though +I may not live to see it, I may die in the hope that +Isobel Bower may, in your keeping, come to deserve a +name better than that terrible one she has earned, and +which just now sounded so terrible from your lips."</p> + +<p>"Is she not a liar, who falsified my words?" said he +impassionedly. "Is she not a thief, who appropriated +the diamond gift of my mother, intended for you? Is +she not an undutiful daughter, who first deceived her +mother by a falsehood, and then denounced her as herself +false? Is that woman, with the form of an angel +and the heart of a devil, to be my wife? And does +Marjory Bower counsel it? Then Marjory Bower hates +Hector Ogilvy!"</p> + +<p>"Nay," replied she calmly, "I only love your +honour. Night and day I will pray for a blessing on +your marriage, and that God, who made the heart of +my sister, may change it into love and goodness."</p> + +<p>A repressed spasmodic laugh shook the frame of +the youth. "What a hope," he said, "on which to +found the happiness of a life, and for which to barter +such a creature as you! But, Marjory, you have +roused the pride of my honour, while you have +appeased my remorse; and I will marry Isobel because +you have said that I should. It is thus I shall punish +myself by becoming a victim in turn to the honour I +was false to."</p> + +<p>As he pronounced these words, he fixed his eye on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +the face of Marjory, which at the moment reflected +brightly the light of the lamp. Her eyes were swimming +in tears. She seemed to struggle with herself, +as if she feared that, in thus counselling him, she incurred +some heavy responsibility. So Ogilvy thought. +But he little knew that there was mixed up with these +emotions the keen anguish of a sacrifice; for she had +not as yet admitted to him how dear he had been to her, +and how bitterly she had felt the transference of his +affections from her to her sister. He waited for a +few moments. He got no reply, except from these +swimming eyes. "Adieu! dear Marjory," he said; and +hastened again to the pine wood, where, having flung +himself on his steed, he started for home.</p> + +<p>As he hurried along, he felt that he had appeased +one feeling at the expense of a life's happiness, and yet +he was satisfied, according to that law whereby the +present evil always appears the greatest. About half +way up the rough track he met one of the servants of +Bell's Tower proceeding homewards, and suspecting +that he had been with a message to him or his mother, +he stopped and questioned him.</p> + +<p>"I have been to Dame Ogilvy with a letter from +Dame Bower," said the man; "and well I may," he +added, as he sided up and whispered, "The fagot-hewers +have seen the bride to-night on the top bartisan +of the castle tower."</p> + +<p>"And I now see a fool," replied Ogilvy, and rode +on. Not that he thought the man the fool he called +him, but that he felt it necessary, as many men do, to +make a protest against the weakness of superstition at +the very moment when the mysterious power was busy +with his heart; and, repeating the word "fool," he +went on auguring and condemning in the double way +of mortals. How strangely he had been led for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +last hour! The terms he had heard applied to his +bride, justifying what he had himself seen, had all +but resolved him to remain absent from the intended +ceremony of the morrow. He had had some lurking +hope that Marjory would agree to his resolution, and +again inspire him with hope; and he knew that his +mother would be pleased with a change which would +yield her a chance of having her favourite for her +daughter-in-law. He had been proposing as a weak +mortal. Another power was purposing as a God; and +yet he considered himself as so much master of himself +and the occasion as to laugh with bitter scorn at the +rustic diviner, and his folly of the apparition bride. +And now there was shining before him the light of the +lamp from the chamber of his mother, whom he had +still stronger reasons than ever for avoiding that night. +But even these reasons were unavailing. The spirit of +his honour, which had been so fragile a thing when +opposed by the advent of a new love, had been breathed +upon and increased to a flame by her he had deserted; +and he for the moment felt he could face the mild +reproof of a mother whom he loved. What a versatile, +incomprehensible creature is man, even in those inspired +moments, when, with the nerve trembling under the +tension of purpose, he appears to himself and others in +his highest position! In a few minutes more he was +in the presence of his mother.</p> + +<p>There sat in her painted chamber the fine gentlewoman, +with her fixed eye divining in the light of the +gilded lamp, as the spirit cast upon the dark curtain of +the future the forms which were but as re-adaptations +of the signs of what had come and gone in her memory +and experience. The two families had been linked by +the power of fate, and the connection, which had never +been dissolved; was to evolve in some new form. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +had grieved for her gentle favourite, Marjory Bower; +and had she been as stern as she was mild, she would +have interposed a parent's authority against her son's +change of purpose. Yea, there might have been true +affection in that sternness; but such would have been +the resolution of a mental strength which she did not +possess, for she was as those whose parental love gratifies +wilfulness from a fear of producing pain. Nor +even now, when she held in her hand a letter of, to her, +strange import, could she call up from her soft heart +an energy to save her son from the ruin which seemed +to impend over him. He stood for a moment before +her, silent, pale, and resolved against all chances,—verily +a puppet under the reaction of affections and +principles he had dared to tamper with against the +injunctions of honour,—and yet he could not see that +the soft and trembling hand of her in Bell's Tower, +which held the strings that bound him so, held them +and straitened them by a spasm. Nor was it of use +to him now that the strings trembled, and relaxed only +for the time when the soft, reproving, yet loving light +of his mother's eye, as it turned from her reverie, fell +upon his soul; for his purpose came again, as his lip +quivered and he waxed more pale.</p> + +<p>"What means this letter?" said she, as she held it +forth in her hand. "Mrs. Bower thanks me for the +gift I sent to your bride."</p> + +<p>"It means, dear mother," replied he firmly, "what +it says. I was weak enough to think that, if I committed +your jewelled locket to Isobel's hand as the +mean whereby it would reach Marjory, I would do +something to cement their love. I saw Isobel's eye +light up as she fixed it on the diamonds—their glare +had entered her soul and made it avaricious; and envy +threw her red glance to fire the passion. Yes, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +appropriated the gift. I have other evidence than +this, even from my bride." And as he pronounced +the word "bride," a scornful laugh escaped from him, +and alarmed his mother.</p> + +<p>"And yet she <i>is</i> your bride, and will be your wife +to-morrow?" said she, looking inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"She will," replied he, in a tone which, though soft, +if not pitiful, was firm, if a trait of sarcasm against +himself might not have been detected in it.</p> + +<p>"Strange!" ejaculated the mother, as she still fixed +her eyes on him. Then, musing a little, "Do you +know that the bride has been seen to-night on the +bastle tower?"</p> + +<p>"Superstition."</p> + +<p>"An ill-used word, Hector," said she; "as if God +was not the Ruler of his own world. When we see +unnatural motives swaying men, and all working to an +event, are we not to suppose that that event shall also +be out of Nature's scheme? and that which is out of +Nature's scheme must be in God's immediate hand. +What motives impel you to wed a woman with whom +you must be miserable, and have that misery enhanced +by seeing every day her who would have rendered you +happy?"</p> + +<p>"My honour pledged to the world, which must condemn +and laugh at a breach of faith, not to be justified +except at the expense of Isobel."</p> + +<p>"A false reason," continued the mother. "Is there +more honour in adhering to a breach of honour than in +returning to the honour that was broken?"</p> + +<p>"There is another reason, mother," said Ogilvy, as +he carried his hand over his sorrowful face.</p> + +<p>"What is that?"</p> + +<p>"Sweet Marjory commands me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Hector, Hector, how little you know of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +heart of woman! Know you not that in a forsaken +woman the heart has an irony even when it is breaking? +Ask her if you should wed her rival, and the +breaking heart-string will respond Yes, even as the +cord of the harp will twang when it is severed. Well +do I know Sweet Marjory, and what she must have felt +when she uttered this command. The canker has +begun, and she will die. The worm does not seek +always the withered leaf. You've heard the song that +Patricia used to sing—</p> + +<p> +"'The dainty worm, it loves the tomb,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And gnaws, and gnaws its nightly food;</span><br /> +But a daintier worm selects the bloom,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And a daintier still affects the bud.'"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"Oh, God forgive me!" ejaculated the miserable +youth, as, holding his hand on his brow, he rushed out +of the room and sought his bed-chamber. Was there +ever such a night before the day, of all days auspicious +to mortals, of the culminating joy of human life! +Could he not find refuge in sleep, where the miserable +so often seek to escape from the vibrations of the leaping, +palpitating nerve, inflamed by the fever of life? +A half-hour's dreamy consciousness, an hour's vision of +returning images, rest and unrest, haunting scenes +woven by some secret power, so varied, so ephialtic, +so monstrous, yet all, somehow or another, however +unlike the reality, still vindicating a connection. Why +should Sweet Marjory be in the deep recesses of the +pine wood, resting by his foaming steed, with his +mother sitting and breathing hope's accents in her ear, +and ever and again calling on him in sobbing vocables +to return from his pursuit of another? He would +return. The charm of her sweet voice is felt to be +irresistible; yet it is resisted. And though he looks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +back only to see her by the flaught of the lightning +that plays among the trees, his steps are forward, +where Devil Isobel charms him with a song, in comparison +of which the magic of the sirens is but the +rustle of the reed as it swerves in the blast. He +struggles, and seizes the stems of the pines to hold him +from his progress and keep him steady; and he +writhes as he finds he cannot obey the maternal appeal +to a son's love. All is still again, and there is rest, +only to be alternated by the recurring visions always +assuming new forms, changing and disappearing, flaring +up again, and then the deep breast-riding oppression, +and those hollow moans, which never can be imitated +by the waking sense, as if Nature preserved this +domain of the spirit as an evidence, in the night of the +soul, that there is another world where the limbo of +agony is not less certain than the heaven which is +simulated by sweet dreams.</p> + +<p>But, <i>lucidus die—nocte inutilis</i>. As the day dawned, +and the morning sun, fresh from the east, threw in +between the chinks of the shutters the virgin beams, +Ogilvy felt the truth of the old saying, that every day +vindicates its two conditions of good and evil. There +was again a change in the versatile mind of the +romantic youth; and Honour, pinkt out in those +gaudy decorations woven by the busy spirits that +move so cunningly the springs of man's thoughts in a +conventional world, appeared before him. If Isobel +was still the Devil Isobel, Honour was a smiling angel, +even more beautiful than Sweet Marjory. Yet he was +not happy—only firm, as he confessed by that lying +power of the mind, to the strength of bonds he had +himself imposed, and yet repented of—setting necessity +as a will-power amidst the wreck and ruin of his +affections. The hour advanced, and he must superin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>duce +the happy bridegroom on the dead statue. Unsteady +and fitful even in the common actions of life—lifting +the wrong thing, and suddenly throwing it +down in the wrong place, again to snatch the right +thing at the wrong time—he was not so this morning. +Every step and manipulation was like the movement +of a machine. Composedness was a luxury to him. +Ornament after ornament, at a time when a bridegroom's +decorations were the expression of a rude +refinement, found its place with a steady, nay, affectedly +formal hand; yea, a more cool bridegroom had +never been seen in the world's history, since that +eventful morning when the hero of Bĉotia put on his +lion's skin, and took up his wooden club, to marry the +fifty daughters of the king, though among these, if the +wise man is right, there must have been forty-nine +devils. As the solemn work went on, he looked again +and again into the mirror, where he saw none of the +wrinkles of care, no brow-knitting of fractiousness, no +sternness of resolute determination,—all quiet, smooth, +even mild. Ay, such a mime is man when he is a +mome, that he even smiled as he felt his pulse,—how +cool was his blood, how regular the vibrations! And +so the mummery went on: the flowered-red vest, the +braided coat of sky-blue, the cravat, the ruffles, the +wrist-bands scolloped and stiff, the indispensable ruff, +concealed behind by the long locks of auburn, so +beautiful in Isobel's eyes, that flowed over his broad +shoulders.</p> + +<p>The work was finished; Ogilvy was dressed—his +body in all the colours of the arc of hope—his mind +in the dark midnight weeds of a concealed misery, +concealed even from himself. He sought the chamber +of his mother, and, taking her hand, kissed it fervently; +but could not trust himself to even a broken syllable of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +speech, and his silence was sympathetic. She looked into +the face of her son, and then threw her eye solemnly over +the array of his dress. The tear stood apparent, yet her +face seemed to have borrowed his composedness, as if +she felt that the old doom still followed the house of +Ogilvy, and was inevitable, when the evil genius of the +Bowers was in the ascendant. There was no reproof +now, save that which lies in the dumb expression of +sorrow—even that reproof which, melting the obstruction +of man's egotism, finds its way to the heart, when +even scorn would be only a hardening coruscation. Yet +even this he could bear for the sake of that conventionality +which is a tyrant. Turning away his head, he again +kissed the soft hand, and hurried away.</p> + +<p>As he issued from the gate and mounted his steed, +now refreshed from the rough stress of the previous +evening, the sun shone high and flaring, and the face +of the country, with its rising hills and heather-bloom, +and patches of waving corn, responded—as became it +surely on a bridal morning—to the clang of the bell in +Bell's Tower,—so like in all but the workings of the +heart to the Sabbath morning when the union is to be +between the spirit of man and the Lamb without guile. +Yet art, self-confident and pragmatic, was not to be +cajoled by the solicitations of, to it, a lying nature, +however beautiful; and Ogilvy found it convenient, if +not manly and heroic, to knit his eyebrows against the +sun. So does the Indian hurl his wooden spear against +the lightning, because he is a greater being than the +Author of the thunder. So he rode on to where the +bells rung—for was not he specially called?—the +gloom on his countenance, with which his forced determination +kept pace, increasing as he proceeded. Nor +had he ever ridden thus before. Even his steed might +have known, as he opened his nostrils, that there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +something more than common in the wind's eye, accustomed +as he was to the speed of enthusiasm, or the +walk of exhaustion. He was now a solemn stalking-horse, +bearing a rigid, buckram-mailed showman, whose +only sound or movement resided in the plates of his +armour, or his lath sword or gilded spontoon.</p> + +<p>As Ogilvy had thus enrolled himself among the +chivalry of honour, and was consequently, in his own +estimation, as we have hinted, a personage of romance, +so was it only consistent with the indispensable gloom +of his dignity and sternness that he should ride alone: +nor was it seeming that he should accost the guests +whom he saw on either side, obeying the call of the +bell, and riding along to the bridal and the feast. Yet +the scene might have enlivened somewhat a very gloomy +knight, as, looking around, he saw the lairds rounding +the bases of the hills, and heard, as others came into +sight, the sound of bagpipes, however little these might +be associated with chivalric notions and aspirations. +But then it was not easy to act this solitary part; for +what more natural than that those passing to his own +celebration should salute him? Nor could he avoid +those salutations.</p> + +<p>"Joy to thee, Ogilvy," said one, as he rode up; +"the nightshade is sweeter than the rose;" and departed.</p> + +<p>"A happy day," said another, "when the wolf becomes +more innocent than the lamb."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, bridegroom," said a third. "The +sun shines bright, and the moss-brown tarn is more +limpid than the running rill."</p> + +<p>"All happiness," said a fourth rider, "when the +merle nestles with the jolly owl, and is not afraid when +he sounds his horn."</p> + +<p>But Ogilvy only compressed his lips the more, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +looked the more gloomy, solacing himself with the +vision of Honour, the beautiful yet stern virgin, and +immaculate as she who shook her mailed petticoats +after getting out of Jupiter's head. Nor was the inspiration +diminished as he now saw rising before him +the rugged pile of Bell's Tower, wherein the bell rang +still more lustily as the hour approached. The guests +were thronging in a multiform, many-coloured mass, +all eager for the honour of a Bower's smile. He was +soon among the midst of them, repaying neither compliment, +nor salutation, nor mute nod, with a single +sign of acknowledgment. And now he entered the +great hall, where already the invited numbers were +nearly completed. How grand the scene! What silks, +and satins, and taffetas, flowerings, braidings, and be-purflings, +and hooped inflations! what towering toupees, +built up with horse-hair and dyed hemp, stiffened with +starch! what nosegays, redolent of heather-bells, and +roses, and orange blossoms! There sat Dame Bower +herself, fat and jolly, with her ruby dewlap, looking +dignity; and Bower, the laird, great in legend. Mess +John, too, even fatter than tradition will have him—the +sleek bald head and face, where a thousand slynesses +could play together without jostling. But what +were all these, and the fairest and the proudest there, +to Isobel Bower, as, arrayed in her long white veil, she +sailed about, heedless of all decorum, showering her +triumph upon envious damsels, as if she would blight +all their fond hopes to make a rich soil for the flowering +of her own! If others sat and looked for being +looked at, and others stood for being admired, she +walked and moved for worship, as if she claimed the +peripatetic honour of the entire round of adoration. +Not that she stared for it: she was too intensely +magnetized to doubt of the jumping of the steel sparks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +to be all arranged <i>rayonnant</i>, like a horse-shoe, round +the centre of her glory. Then, as there is by the domestic +law a wearock in every nest, however speckled, +and however redolent of balm-leaves or resonant of +chirpings, where was Sweet Marjory Bower? Where +that law ought to place her, by older legends than the +date of Bower pride and power—in a corner, plainly +dressed, and trying with downcast eyes to escape observation. +But how pallid!—as if all the colours there +had vied to steal from her cheeks, not the rosy bloom—for +it never was there—-but the fresh white of the +lily, more beautiful than all the flowers of the garden; +and not the colour alone, but the light itself of the +lily's eye. Nay, it would seem that the greatest robber +of all was her sister, whose look turned upon her as if +in scorn of her humility, and in pleasure of her woe.</p> + +<p>As Ogilvy entered, walking up direct and stedfastly +to the midst of the great hall, there arose the welcome +buzz, like that humming which makes musical the +sphere where comes the reigning queen of the hive. +But how soon, as the bell in the tower ceased to ring, +was all that noise hushed into a death-like silence, as +he stood without sign or movement, with his arms +crossed, and his gloomy eyes fixed on the only empty +space in that crowded assembly! Would he not look +at the bride, or salute the bride's mother, or shake +hands with the bride's father, or do any one of all those +many things which lay to his duty—far more to his +inclination—as a happy bridegroom? Not one of them. +And there he stood, as a motionless Grecian god hewn +out of veritable panthelion, with its ivory eyes, and the +mute worshippers all about. Nay, the likeness was +even more perfect; for as these worshippers, from the +very fear of reverence and the impression of awe, kept +at a distance from that centre of deity, so those guests<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +who were nearest to the strange man moved instinctively +away, leaving him in the middle of the charmed ring. +But even this did not move him. Then there was +business to be done. "Oh! he was only meditative." +The greatness of the occasion was the mother of a +hundred excuses. Still to all it was oppressive, killing +enthusiasm, and so unlike what these gay hopefuls had +prefigured of that celestial state in which they wished +themselves to be. Only Isobel seemed unchanged. She +whispered to Mess John—most unseemly; but was she +not the Devil Isobel? Ogilvy, even as a statue, was +hers, and could not get away. Then the bridesmaids +sought each other, by the clustering sympathy of their +gay wreaths and their office, and the bridesman stood +in readiness. Mess John was at the altar; and the bell +was to ring the celebrating peal after the ceremony was +ended, and the guests should fall to their knives and +forks; and the retainers on the lawn, where the fire +blazed wild to roast the ox and honour the bride, +should sit down to their marriage feast.</p> + +<p>As Solemnity is the mother of Angerona, with her +finger on her lip, so here reigned now the utmost stillness +that could be enforced by heaving hearts against +the buzz of a crowd. Scarcely a sound was heard as +the altar was encircled. You might have detected a +sigh, if it had not been that every sigh was suppressed. +Even Isobel was mute, but not from any cessation of +her triumph—rather from the impression of its culmination +in possession. She stood grandly, looking around +her, in defiance of the inexorable law of down-gazing +on the ground, where brides see so much which no one +else sees. Nor had she yet expressed by a look any +wonder at the statue bridegroom, whose attitude was +still unchanged. All is eye, and ear, and throbbing +heart, when of a sudden the door of the great hall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +opened, calling the eye in the direction of the screech. +Who dared? Some one more daring than common +humanity. A figure entered, in the dress of another +bride,—a tall figure, with surely nothing to be covered +by the white satin and the long lace mantilla, suspended +from the top of a wreathed head white as the +driven snows of Salmon, but bones, sheer bones. The +face could scarcely be seen for the folds of the veil: +only two eyes, with no more light in them than what +plays on the surface of untransparent things, and fixed +and immoveable as if they saw nothing. The guests +were breathless from stupefying amazement. They +beheld it pass into the middle of the hall, where, in +the space that had been deserted, it began a movement +something like dancing. Strange mutterings of +a broken-voiced song, with words about long years +having passed away, rhyming with bridal day, and so +forth, in the cauldron-kettle-and-incantation style, came +in snatches.</p> + +<p>"It is that infernal old witch, Patricia Bower," +screamed Devil Isobel.</p> + +<p>And rushing forward, the impassioned creature threw +the weight of her body on the composition of bones and +satin. It fell, with a loud shrill scream from a windpipe +dried by the breath of ninety-seven years.</p> + +<p>Dame Bower and Sweet Marjory rushed forward and +drew back the veil. It was the antediluvian Patricia. +She was dead. The last spark had been offered to +Hymen, and the incense canister was broken. Drops +of blood issued from her mouth and nose, and sat upon +the marble face, with still remains of the old beauty in +it which had charmed Walter Ogilvy, like dots on the +tiger lily.</p> + +<p>At this moment the bell began to clang. Devil +Isobel was gone. She had hurried out the moment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +she knew that the spark of life had fled. Nor could +she be found. The song says—</p> + +<p> +"They sought her here, they sought her there,<br /> +By lochs and streams that scent the main,<br /> +By forests dark, and gardens fair;<br /> +But she was never seen again."<br /> +</p> + +<p>A trick, this last line, of some of the old legend-mongers +of the Bell's Tower minstrels, no doubt to +conceal the shame of the family; for Devil Isobel had +flown to the tower, where, having concealed herself till +the bell-ringers went away to join in the feast of the +ox, which they never tasted even after so much pulling +and hauling, she mounted to the belfry. Somehow she +had contrived to cast the bell-rope round one of the +beams by which the bell was suspended, so as to produce +no noise, and then, having made a noose of a +different kind from that she had that day been busily +twining, she suspended herself by the neck. It was +some days before she was discovered. The long white +figure, still arrayed in the marriage dress with the flowing +veil, had been observed by some of the searchers; +and then, strange enough, it was remembered that one +solitary clang of the bell had been heard after the +cessation of the ringing. That was the death-peal of +Isobel Bower. But, a year after, that same bell had +another peal to sound—no other than the celebration +of the marriage of Hector Ogilvy and Sweet Marjory. +Some say that Bell's Tower got its name from the contraction +of Isobel. Names stick after the things have +passed away. They did well at least to change the rope—<i>finis +funis</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="DOCTOR_DOBBIE" id="DOCTOR_DOBBIE"></a>DOCTOR DOBBIE.</h2> + + +<p>The particular day in the life of the worthy disciple of +Esculapius to which we desire to direct the attention of +the reader, was raw, coldish, and drizzly in the morning, +but cleared up towards noon; and although it +never became what could be called warm (it was the +latter end of September), it turned out a very passable +sort of day on the whole—such a day as no man could +reasonably object to, unless he had some particular +purpose of his own to serve. In such case he might +perhaps have wished more rain, or probably more +sunshine, as the one or the other suited his interest; +but where no such selfish motives interfered, the day +must have been generally allowed to have been a good +one. The thermometer stood at—we forget what; and +the barometer indicated "Fair."</p> + + +<p>PERSONAL APPEARANCE, CHARACTER, AND PECULIARITIES +OF THE DOCTOR.</p> + +<p>The doctor was a little stout man, not what could +be called corpulent, but presenting that sort of plump +appearance which gives the idea of a person's being +hard-packed, squeezed, crammed into his skin.</p> + +<p>Such was the doctor, then—not positively fat, but +thick, firm, and stumpy; the latter characteristic being +considerably heightened by his always wearing a pair +of glossy Hessian boots, which, firmly encasing his little +thick legs up nearly to the knees, gave a peculiar air of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +stamina and solidity to his nether person. The doctor +stood like a rock in his Hessians, and stumped along in +them—for he was excessively vain of them—as proudly +as a field-marshal, planting his little iron heels on the +flag-stones with a sharpness and decision that told of a +firm and vigorous step.</p> + +<p>The doctor was no great hand at his trade; but this, +it is but fair to observe, was not his own opinion. It +was the opinion only of those who employed him, and +of the little public to whom he was known. He himself +entertained wholly different sentiments on the subject. +The doctor, in truth, was a vain, conceited little +gentleman; but, withal, a pleasant sort of person, and +very generally liked. He sung a capital song, and had +an inexhaustible fund of animal spirits.</p> + +<p>One consequence of the latter circumstance was his +being much invited out amongst his friends and acquaintances. +He was, in fact, a regular guest at all +their festivities and merry-makings, and on these occasions +used to get himself fully more strongly malted +than became a gentleman of his grave profession.</p> + +<p>When returning home of a night in this state, the +little doctor's little iron heels might be heard rap-rapping +on the flag-stones at a great distance in the quiet +street, for he then planted them with still more decision +and vigour than when sober; and so well known in his +neighbourhood was the sound of his footsteps, so audible +were they in the stillness of the night, and so habitually +late was he in returning home—his profession forming +an excellent excuse for this—that people, even while +sitting at their own firesides, or, it might be, in bed, +although at the height of three storeys, became aware, +the moment they heard his heels, that the doctor was +passing beneath; and the exclamations, "That's the +doctor," or "There goes the doctor," announced the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +important fact to many a family circle. All unconscious, +however, of these recognitions, the doctor +stumped on his way, reflecting the while, it might +be, on the good cheer he had just been enjoying.</p> + +<p>On these occasions, the doctor, while he kept the +open street, got on swimmingly; but the dark and +somewhat tortuous staircase which he had to ascend +to reach his domicile—the said domicile being on the +third flat—used to annoy him sadly. When very +much overcome, as, we grieve to say it, the doctor +very frequently was, the labour it cost him to make +out the three stairs was very serious. It was long +protracted, too; it took him an immense time; for, +conscious of his unsteady condition, he climbed slowly +and deliberately, but we cannot add quietly; for his +shuffling, kicking, and blowing, to which he frequently +added a muttered objurgation or two on missing a step, +as he struggled up the dark stair, were distinctly audible +to the whole land. By merely listening, they could +trace his whole progress with the utmost accuracy, +from the moment he entered the close, until the slam +of a door announced that the doctor was housed. They +could hear him pass along the close—they could hear +him commence his laborious ascent—they could hear +him struggling upwards, and, anon, the point of his +boot striking against a step, which he had taken more +surely than necessary—they could hear him gain the +landing-place at his own door, signified by a peculiar +shuffle, which almost seemed to express the intelligence +that a great work had been accomplished—they could +hear the doctor fumbling amongst his keys and loose +coin for his check-key, and again fumbling with this +check-key about its aperture in the door, the hitting of +the latter being a tedious and apparently most difficult +achievement—and, lastly, they could hear the door<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +flung to with great violence, announcing the finale of +the doctor's progress.</p> + +<p>Over and above the more ordinary and obvious difficulties +attending the doctor's ascent on such occasions, +and under such circumstances as those of which we +speak, there was one of a peculiar and particularly +annoying nature. This was the difficulty he found in +discriminating his own landing-place from the others,—a +difficulty which was greatly increased by the entire +similarity of all the landing-places on the stair, the +doors in all of which were perfect counterparts of each +other, and stood exactly in the same relative positions. +This difficulty often nonplussed him sadly; but he at +length fell upon a method of overcoming it, and of +ensuring his making attempts on no door but his own. +He counted the landing-places as he gained them, +pausing a second or two on each to draw breath, and +impress its number on his memory,—one, two, three, +then out with the check-key.</p> + +<p>Now this was all very well had the doctor continued +to reckon accurately; but, considering the state of +obfuscation in which he generally returned home at +night, it was very possible that he might miscount on +an occasion, and take that for three which, according +to Cocker, was only two, or that for two which, by the +same authority, was but one. This was perfectly possible, +as the sequel of our tale will sufficiently prove. +In the meantime, we proceed to other matters; and, to +make our history as complete as possible, we start anew +with—</p> + + +<p>THE DOCTOR'S SHOP.</p> + +<p>It had not a very imposing appearance; for, to tell +a truth, the doctor's circumstances were by no means +in a palmy state. The shop, therefore, was decidedly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +a shabby one. It was very small and very dirty, with +a little projecting bow window, the lower panes of +which were mystified with some sort of light green +substance—paint or paper, we don't know which—in +order to baffle the curiosity of the prying urchins who +used to congregate about it. Not that they were attracted +by anything in the window itself, but that it +happened to be a favourite station of the boys in the +neighbourhood,—a sort of mustering place, or place of +call, where they could at any time find each other. +The typical display in the doctor's window consisted +of a blue bottle, a pound of salts, and a serpent; the +second being made up into labelled packages of about +an ounce weight each, and built up with nice skill +against one of the panes, so as to make as much show +as possible. The serpent was a native of the Lammermoor +Hills, which a boy, who drove a buttermilk cart, +brought in one morning, and sold to the doctor for a +shilling.</p> + +<p>The inside of the doctor's shop, which besides being +very dirty was very dark, had a strange, mysterious, +equivocal sort of character about it. Everything was +dingy, and greasy, and battered, and mutilated. Dirty +broken glasses stood in dark and dirty corners; rows +of dirty bottles, some without stoppers, and some with +the necks chipped off, and containing drops of black, +villanous-looking liquids, stood on dirty shelves; rows +of battered, unctuous-looking drawers, rising tier above +tier, lined one side of the shop, most of which were +handled with bits of greasy cord, the brass handles +with which they had been originally furnished having +long since disappeared, and never having been replaced.</p> + +<p>What these drawers contained, no human being but +the doctor himself could tell. In truth, few of them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +contained anything at all. Those that did, could be +described only as holding mysterious, dirty-looking +powders, lumps of incomprehensible substances, or +masses of desiccated vegetable matter of powerful and +most abominable flavour.</p> + +<p>For all these, the doctor had, doubtless, very learned +names; but such as we have described them was their +appearance to the eye of the uninitiated.</p> + +<p>To complete the charms of the doctor's medical +establishment, it was constantly pervaded by a heavy, +unearthly smell, that, we verily believe, no man but +himself could have inhaled for an hour and lived.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the unpretending and homely character +of the doctor's establishment, it boasted a sounding +name. The doctor himself called it, and so did the +signboard over the door, "The —— Medical Hall,"—a +title which the envious thought absurd enough for a +place whose proudest show was a blue bottle, a pound +of salts, and a serpent. But these people did not recollect, +or did not choose to recollect, the high pretensions +of the doctor himself. They did not advert to the +numerous degrees, honorary titles, fellowships, etc., +which he had acquired, otherwise they would have +looked to the man, not to the shop. Probably, however, +few of them were aware of the number of these +which he boasted; but it is a fact, nevertheless, that +the doctor could, and did on particular occasions, sign +himself thus:—"David Dobbie, M.D.; E.F.; M.N.O.; +U.V.; Z.Y.X.; W.V.U.;" nor did he hesitate sometimes +to alter the letters according to the inspiration +of the happy moment.</p> + +<p>Now, had the doctor's right to all these titles been +taken into account, and, so taken, been appreciated as +it ought, there would have been fewer sneers at his +Medical Hall than there was as matters stood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_INVITATION" id="THE_INVITATION"></a>THE INVITATION.</h2> + + +<p>In another part of this history we have stated that +the doctor, being generally liked, was much invited +out to feastings and merry-makings, and convivialities +of all sorts, from the aristocratic roast turkey and bottle +of port, to the plebeian Findhorn haddock and jug of +toddy. But all, in this way, was fish that came in the +doctor's net. Provided there was quantity—particularly +in the liquor department—he was not much +given to shying at quality. He certainly preferred +wine, but by no means turned up his nose at a tumbler. +Few men, in fact, could empty more at a sitting.</p> + +<p>It was observed of the doctor, by those who knew +him intimately, that he was always in bad humour on +what he called blank days. These were days on which +he had no invitation on hand for any description of +guzzle whatever—either dinner, tea, supper, or a "just +come up and take a glass of toddy in the evening." +This seldom occurred, but it did sometimes happen; +and on these occasions the doctor's short and snappish +answers gave sufficient intimation of the provoking fact.</p> + +<p>In such temper, then, and for such reason, was the +doctor in the forenoon of the particular day in his life +which we have made the subject of this paper. He +was as cross as an old drill-sergeant; and what made +him worse, the affair he had been at on the preceding +night had been a very poor one. He had been hinted +away after the third tumbler—treatment which had +driven the doctor to swear, mentally, that he would +never enter the house again. How far he would keep +this determination, it remained for another invitation +to prove.</p> + +<p>In this mood, then, and at the time already alluded +to, was the doctor employed, behind his counter, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +measuring off some liquid in a graduated glass, which +he held between him and the light, and on which he +was looking very intently, as the liquid was precious, +the quantity wanted small, and the glass but faintly +marked, when a little boy entered the shop, and inquired +if Dr. Dobbie was within.</p> + +<p>"Yes. What do you want?" replied the doctor +gruffly, and without taking his eye off the graduated +glass.</p> + +<p>"Here's a line for ye, sir," said the boy, laying a +card on the counter.</p> + +<p>"Who's it from?" roared the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Frae Mr. Walkinshaw, sir," replied the boy, meekly; +"and he would like to ken whether ye can come or no."</p> + +<p>"Come; oh, surely. Let me see," said the doctor. +"Come; ay, certainly," he added, his tone suddenly +dropping down to the mild and affable, and speaking +from an intuitive knowledge of the tenor of the card. +"Surely; let me see." And the doctor opened the note +and read, his eyes gloating, and his countenance dissolving +into smiles, as he did so:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Doctor</span>,—A few friends at half-past eight. +Just a haddock and a jug of toddy. Be as pointed as +you can. Won't be kept <i>very</i> late. Dear Doctor, yours +truly,</p> + +<p class="right"> +"<span class="smcap">R. Walkinshaw</span>."<br /> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>"My compliments to Mr. Walkinshaw," said the +doctor, with a bland smile, and folding up the card +with a sort of affectionate air as he spoke, "and tell +him I will be pointed. Stop, boy," he added, on the +latter's being about to depart with his message; "stop," +he said, running towards his till, and thence abstracting +threepence, which he put into the boy's hand, with +a—"There, my boy, take that to buy marbles." The +doctor always rewarded such messengers; but he did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +so systematically, and by a rule of his own. For an +invitation to breakfast he gave a penny, thus estimating +that meal at all but the lowest possible rate; for +an invitation to dinner he gave sixpence; for one to +supper, threepence, as exemplified in the instance +above.</p> + +<p>In possession of Mr. Walkinshaw's invitation, the +doctor continued in excellent spirits throughout the +remainder of the day.</p> + + +<p>THE GUZZLE.</p> + +<p>At the height of three stories, in a respectable-looking +tenement in a certain quarter of a certain city which +shall be nameless, there resided a decent widow woman +of the name of Paton, who kept lodgers.</p> + +<p>At the particular time, and on the particular occasion +at and on which we introduce the reader to Mrs. Paton's +lodging-house, there was a certain parlour in the said +house in a state of unusual tidiness. Not to say that +this parlour was not always in good order: it was; but +in the present instance, it displayed an extra degree +both of <i>redding</i>-up and of comfort.</p> + +<p>An unusually large fire blazed in the polished grate, +and a couple of candles, in shining candlesticks, stood +on the bright mahogany table. On a small old-fashioned +sideboard was exhibited a goodly display of bottles +and glasses, flanked by a sugar basin, heaped up with +snowy bits of refined sugar; a small plate of cut cheese, +another of biscuit, and a third bearing a couple of +lemons.</p> + +<p>Everything about the room, in short, gave indication +of an approaching guzzle. The symptoms were unmistakeable. +The only occupant of the room at this time +was a gentleman, who sat in an arm-chair opposite the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +fire, carelessly turning over the leaves of a new magazine. +His heart, evidently, was not in the employment; +he was merely putting off time, and doing so with some +impatience of manner, for he was ever and anon pulling +out his watch to see how the night sped on.</p> + +<p>This gentleman was Mr. Walkinshaw, the doctor's +inviter, head clerk in a respectable mercantile establishment +in the city; and, we need hardly say, one of Mrs. +Paton's lodgers. Neither need we say, we fancy, that +he was just now waiting, and every moment expecting, +the arrival of the doctor, and the other friends he had +invited, nor that the preparations above described were +intended for the special enjoyment of the party alluded to.</p> + +<p>"Five-and-twenty minutes to nine," said Mr. Walkinshaw, +looking for the twentieth time at the dial of +his watch. "I wonder what has become of the doctor! +<i>he</i> used to be so pointed."</p> + +<p>At this moment a ring of the door bell announced a +visitor. Mr. Walkinshaw, in his impatience for the appearance +of his friends, and not doubting that this was +one of them, snatched up the candle, and ran to the +door himself. He opened it; when a little thick-set +figure, in Hessian boots, wrapped up in an ample blue +cloth cloak, with an immense cape, and having a red +comforter tied round his throat, presented himself. It +was the doctor.</p> + +<p>"How d'ye do? and how d'ye do? Come away. +Glad to see you!" with cordial shaking of hands and +joyous smiles, marked the satisfaction with which the +inviter and the invited met. The doctor was in high +spirits, as he always was on such occasions; that is, +when there was a prospect of good eating and drinking, +and nothing to pay.</p> + +<p>Having assisted the doctor to divest himself of his +cloak, hat, and comforter, Mr. Walkinshaw ushered him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +into his room; and having kindly seated him in the +arm-chair which he had himself occupied a minute or +two before, he ran to the sideboard, took therefrom a +small bottle, and very small glass of the shape of a +thistle-top, and approaching his guest, said in a coaxing +tone, filling up at the same time—</p> + +<p>"Thimbleful of brandy, doctor; just to take the +chill off." Anything for an excuse in such cases.</p> + +<p>"Why, no objection, my dear sir," said the doctor, +smiling most graciously, taking the proffered glass of +ruby-coloured liquid, wishing health and a good wife to +his host, and tossing off the tiny bumper.</p> + +<p>The doctor had scarcely bolted his alcohol, when the +door bell again rung violently.</p> + +<p>"There <i>they</i> are at last!" exclaimed Walkinshaw, +joyously.</p> + +<p>And there they were, to be sure. Half-a-dozen +rattling fellows all in a lump. In they poured into +Walkinshaw's room with hilarious glee.</p> + +<p>"Ah, doctor. Oh, doctor. Here too, doctor. Hope +you're well, doctor. Glad to see you, doctor!" resounded +in all quarters; for they were all intimate +acquaintances of our medical friend, and were really +delighted to see him.</p> + +<p>To this running fire of salutation, the doctor replied +by a series of becks, bows, and smiles, and a shaking +of hands, right and left, in rapid succession.</p> + +<p>All these, and such like preliminaries, gone through, +the party took their seats around the table, and the +business of the evening began. It soon did more: it +progressed, and that most joyously. Jug followed jug +in rapid succession. The doctor got into exuberant +spirits, and sung several of his best songs, in his best +manner. But alas!—</p> + +<p> +"Pleasures are," etc. etc.<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<p>They are, sweet poet, and no man could be more +strongly impressed with, or would have more readily +allowed the truth and happy application of thy beautiful +similes, than the doctor, on the occasion of which +we are speaking. Enjoyment was quickly succeeded +by satiety; and alert apprehension, and quick perception, +by that doziness and obfuscation of the faculties +which marks the <i>quantum suff.</i> at the festive board.</p> + +<p>The doctor was a man who could have said with the +face of clay—</p> + +<p> +"And cursed be he who first cries, Hold, enough!"<br /> +</p> + +<p>But, being but mortal, after all, his powers were not +illimitable. There was a boundary which even he +could not pass, and at the same time lay his hand on +his breast and say, "I'm sober."</p> + +<p>That boundary the doctor had now passed by a pretty +good way. In plain language, he was cut, very much +cut, as was made sufficiently evident by various little +symptoms,—such as a certain thickness of speech; a +certain diffusion of dull red over the whole countenance, +extending to and including the ears, which +seemed to become transparent, like a pair of thin, flat, +red pebbles; a certain look of stupidity and non-comprehension; +and a certain heaviness and lacklustreness +of eye, that gave these organs a strong resemblance to +a couple of parboiled gooseberries.</p> + +<p>Sensible of his own condition, sensible that he could +hold out no longer, the doctor now moved, in the most +intelligible language which he could conveniently command, +that the diet should be deserted <i>pro loco et tempore</i>.</p> + +<p>The motion was unanimously approved of; this unanimity +having been secured by the inability of several +of the party, who had been rendered <i>hors de combat</i>, to +express dissent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p> + +<p>A general break up, then, was the consequence of +the doctor's motion. Candle in hand, Mr. Walkinshaw +rose and accompanied his guests to the door, towards +which they moved in a long irregular file, he leading +the way. In the passage, however, a momentary halt +was called. It was to allow the doctor to don himself +in his walking gear. With some assistance from his +host, this was soon accomplished. His hat was stuck +on his head, his martial cloak thrown around him, +and his immense comforter, like a red blanket, coiled +around his neck. Thus accoutred, the doctor and his +friends evacuated the premises of their worthy host, +Mr. Walkinshaw.</p> + + +<p>THE RETURN HOME, AND INCIDENTS THEREFROM ARISING.</p> + +<p>The doctor had not proceeded far on his way home, +until he found himself alone. One after another, his +friends had popped off; some disappearing mysteriously, +others giving fair warning of their departure, by shaking +him by the hand, and wishing him</p> + +<p> +----"good night,<br /> +And rosy dreams and slumbers light."<br /> +</p> + +<p>Left to his own reflections, and, we may add, to his +own exertions, the doctor stumped bravely homeward, +and, without meeting with anything particularly worthy +of notice, arrived safely at his own <i>close</i> mouth.</p> + +<p>In another part of this history, we have mentioned +that there were one or two difficulties that always +awaited the doctor on his return home when in the +particular state in which he was at this moment. The +first of these difficulties was to climb the dark tortuous +staircase, on the third story of which was his domicile. +The second was to discriminate between his neighbours'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +door and his own. The reader will recollect that, to +obviate this last difficulty, the doctor fell upon the ingenious +expedient of counting the landing-places as he +ascended, his own being number three.</p> + +<p>The reader's memory refreshed as to these particulars, +we proceed to say that the doctor, having traversed the +close with a tolerably firm and steady step, commenced +his laborious ascent of the stair in his usual manner, +but with evidently fully more difficulty, as some of the +neighbours, who heard his struggles, remarked, than +ordinary,—a circumstance from which they inferred—and +correctly enough, as we have seen—that the doctor +was more than ordinarily overcome.</p> + +<p>The first flight of steps the doctor accomplished with +perfect success, and with perfect accuracy recorded it +as number one. This done, he commenced the ascent +of number two; and, after a severe struggle, accomplished +it also. But by the time he had done so, the +doctor had lost his reckoning, and, believing that he +had gained his own landing-place, from which, we +need hardly remind the reader, he was yet an entire +flight of stairs distant, he deliberately pulled out his +check-key, and applied it to the door of the neighbour +who lived right under him,—a certain Mr. Thomson, +who pursued the intellectual calling of a cheesemonger.</p> + +<p>Having inserted the key in the lock, the doctor gave +it the necessary twitch; and, obedient to the hint, the +bolt rose, the door opened, and the doctor walked in.</p> + +<p>Being pitch-dark, and the two houses—that is, the +doctor's and Mr. Thomson's—being of precisely the +same construction within, nothing presented itself to +the unconscious burglar to inform him of the blunder +he had made.</p> + +<p>Satisfied, or rather never doubting, that all was +right, the doctor shut the door, and, groping along the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +passage, sought the door of a small apartment on the +left, which, in his own house, was his bedroom. This +room he readily found; and it so happened that in Mr. +Thomson's house this same apartment was also a bedroom; +so that the doctor, under all circumstances, +could not be blamed for feeling perfectly at ease as to +his situation. In this feeling, he planted himself down +in a chair, and began deliberately to unbutton his waistcoat, +preparatory to tumbling in. While thus employed, +the doctor indulged in a sort of soliloquy, embracing +certain reflections and reminiscences connected with +his present condition and recent revelries.</p> + +<p>"All right, then," said the doctor, referring to his +present position. "Snug in my own bedroom. Capital +song yon of Ned's; one of Gilfirian's, I think. Writes +a beautiful song, Gil—a pretty song—very pretty. +Good feeling, sweet natural sentiment, and all that sort +of thing. Must get his new edition, and learn half-a-dozen +of them. Hah! confoundedly drunk though—that +lee-lurch ugly. Never mind: dead sober in the +morning; sound as a roach. Take a seidlitz, and all +right."</p> + +<p>While thus expressing the ideas that were crowding +through his addled brain, the doctor's attention was +suddenly attracted by a noise at the outer door. He +paused to listen. It was some one, with a key, endeavouring +to gain access. What could it mean? +Thieves, robbers, no doubt of it. The doctor did not +doubt it. So, grasping a huge, thick crab-stick, which +he always carried at night, and which he had on the +present occasion laid against the wall close by where +he sat, the doctor stole on tiptoe towards the door, +and taking up a position about a yard distant from +it, raised his crab-stick aloft, and in this attitude +slily awaited the entrance of the thief, whom he pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>posed +to knock quietly down the moment he passed +the door-way.</p> + +<p>Leaving the doctor in this gallant position for a few +seconds, we step aside to inform the reader of a circumstance +or two with which it is right he should be made +acquainted. In the first place, he should be, as he now +is, informed that the person at the door, and whom the +doctor took to be a midnight robber, was no other than +the doctor's neighbour, Mr. Thomson himself, the lawful +occupant of the house of which the former had taken +possession. He had happened, like the doctor, to have +been out late that night; and, like the doctor, too, was +several sheets in the wind. However, that is neither +here nor there to our story. But it is of some consequence +to it to add, inasmuch as it accounts for the +non-appearance of any one to avert the impending +catastrophe, that there was no one residing in Mr. +Thomson's house at the particular period of which we +speak, but Mr. Thomson himself; his wife, children, +and servant, being at sea-bathing quarters. Thus, +then, it was that the doctor had been allowed to take +and keep such undisturbed possession of the premises.</p> + +<p>Again, the doctor being a bachelor, kept no servant +at all; the domestic duties of his establishment being +performed by an old woman, who came at an early +hour of the morning, remained all day, and left at +night.</p> + +<p>There was thus no family circumstance connected +with his own domestic establishment, the absence of +which, on the present occasion, might have excited his +suspicions as to his real position. Everything, then, +favoured the unlucky chance now in progress. To +resume: The doctor having placed himself in the +hostile attitude already described, coolly and courageously +awaited the entrance of the supposed burglar.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +He had not to wait long. The door opened; and, all unconscious +of what was awaiting him, Thomson entered. +It was all he was allowed to do, however; for, in the +next instant, a well-directed blow from the doctor's +crab-stick laid him senseless on the floor.</p> + +<p>"Take that, you burglarious villain," shouted the +doctor triumphantly, on seeing the success of his +assault; "and that, and that, and that," he added, +plunging sundry forcible kicks into the body of his +prostrate victim with the points of his little stumpy +Hessians.</p> + +<p>Having settled his man, as he imagined, the doctor +stooped down, and, seizing him by the neck of his coat, +proceeded to drag him to the outside of the door. This +was a work of some difficulty, as Thomson was rather +a heavy man; but it was accomplished. The doctor +exerted himself, and succeeded in hauling the unconscious +body of his unfortunate neighbour on to the +landing-place on the outside. Having got him there, +he edged him towards the descent, and, giving him a +shove with his foot, sent him rolling down the stairs.</p> + +<p>The housebreaker thus disposed of, and put, as the +doctor believed, beyond all power of doing any more +mischief in this world, the latter, highly satisfied with +what he had done, and not a little vain of his prowess, +re-entered the house, carefully secured the door after +him with chain and bolt, and retired to the little bedroom +of which he had been before in possession.</p> + +<p>Somewhat sobered by the occurrence which had just +taken place, the doctor now discovered various little +circumstances which rather surprised him. He could +not, for instance, find his nightcap; it was not in the +place where it used to be. Neither could he find the +boot-jack; it was not where it used to be either. The +bed, too, he thought, had taken up a strange position;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +it was not in the same corner of the room, and the +head was reversed. The head of his bed used to be +towards the door; he now found the foot in that direction.</p> + +<p>All these little matters the doctor noted, and thought +them rather odd; but he set them all down to the +debit of his housekeeper,—some as the results of carelessness—such +as the absence of the nightcap and boot-jack; +others—the shifting of the bed and altering its +position—to the whim of some new arrangement.</p> + +<p>Thus satisfactorily accounting for the little omissions +and discrepancies he noted, the doctor began to peel; +and, in a short time after, was snugly buried beneath +the blankets, with his red comforter round his head in +place of a nightcap.</p> + +<p>Leaving the doctor for a time, thus comfortably +quartered, we will look after the unfortunate victim of +his prowess, whose rights he was now so complacently +usurping.</p> + +<p>For fully half an hour after he had been bundled +down stairs by the doctor in the way already described, +poor Thomson lay without sense or motion. At about +the end of that time, however, he so far recovered as +to be able to emit two or three dismal groans, which +happening to be overheard by the policeman on the +station, who was at the moment going his rounds, he +hastened towards the quarter from whence the alarming +sounds proceeded, and found the ill-used cheesemonger +lying at full length on the stair, head downwards, +and, of course, feet uppermost.</p> + +<p>The policeman held his lantern close to the face of +the unfortunate man, to see if he could recognise him; +but this he could not, and that for two reasons: First, +being newly come to the station, he did not know +Thomson at all; and, second, the countenance of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +latter was so covered with blood, and otherwise disfigured, +that, suppose he had, he could not possibly +have recognised him.</p> + +<p>Seeing the man in a senseless state, and, as he +thought, perhaps mortally injured, the policeman hastened +to the office to give notice of his situation, and +to procure assistance to have him carried there; all of +which was speedily done. A bier was brought, and on +this bier the person of the unfortunate cheesemonger +was placed, and borne to the police office.</p> + +<p>Medical aid being here afforded to the sufferer, he +was soon brought so far round as to be able to give +some account of himself, and of the misfortune which +had befallen him. His face, too, having been cleared +of the blood by which it was disguised, he was recognised +by several persons in the office; and being +known to be a respectable man, the wonder was greatly +increased to see him in so lamentable a condition. Mr. +Thomson's account, however, of the occurrences of the +night explained all.</p> + +<p>He stated that, on returning home to his own house, +in which there was no one living at present but himself, +he was encountered by some one in the passage, +and knocked down the instant he entered the door. +Who or what the person was he could not tell, but he +had no doubt that it was some one who had entered +the house for the purpose of robbing it; and added +his belief that the house was filled with robbers, who, +he had no doubt, had plundered it of every portable +article worth carrying away.</p> + +<p>How he came to be found on the stair he could not +tell, but supposed that he had been dragged there after +he had been knocked down—that proceeding having +deprived him of all consciousness.</p> + +<p>Here ended Mr. Thomson's deposition; and great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +was the sensation, great the commotion which it excited +in the police office. So daring a burglary—so daring +an assault. The like had not been heard of for years. +In a twinkling, eight or ten men were mustered, +lanterned, and bludgeoned; and, headed by a sergeant, +were on their march to the scene of robbery.</p> + +<p>On arriving at Mr. Thomson's door, they found it +fast, and all quiet within. What was to be done? +Force open the door? Perhaps some of the villains +were still in the house. At any rate, it was proper to +see what state things were in.</p> + +<p>A smith was accordingly sent for, the lock picked, and +the door thrown open, when, headed by the sergeant +with a pistol in his hand, in rushed a mob of policemen, +a constellation of lanterns, a forest of bludgeons.</p> + +<p>The guardians of the night now dispersed themselves +over the house; but, to their great surprise, +found no trace whatever of the thieves. There appeared +to have been nothing disturbed, and the doors and +windows remained all fast.</p> + +<p>Puzzled by these circumstances, the police had begun +to abate somewhat of that zeal with which they had +first commenced their search, and were standing together +in knots, some in one room and some in another, +discussing the probabilities and likelihoods of the case, +when those in the doctor's apartment were suddenly +startled by a loud snore or grunt, proceeding from the +bed, which was followed by a restless movement, and +the exclamation—"Thieves, robbers!" muttered in the +thick indistinct way of a person dreaming.</p> + +<p>In an instant, half a dozen policemen rushed towards +the bed, drew aside the curtains, and there beheld the +unconscious face of the heroic little doctor just peering +out of the blankets, and a section of the red comforter +in which his head was entombed in the manner already<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +set forth. We have said that the face on which the +astonished policemen now looked was an unconscious +one. So it was; for, notwithstanding the grunt he +had emitted, the movement he had made, and the +exclamations he had uttered, the doctor was still sound +asleep; the former having been merely the result of +dreamy reminiscences of the past, awakened by an +indistinct sense of the presence of some person or persons +in the house.</p> + +<p>In mute surprise, the police, every one holding his +lantern aloft, and thus surrounding the bed with a +halo of light, gazed for a second or two on the sleeping +Esculapius. They had never, in the course of all +their experience, seen a burglar take things so coolly +and comfortably. That he should enter a house with +the intention of robbing it, and should deliberately +strip, go to bed, and take a snooze in that house, was +a piece of such daring impudence as they had never +heard of before.</p> + +<p>It was no time, however, for making reflections on +the subject. The business in hand was to secure the +villain; and this was promptly done. Finding his +sleep so profound as not to be easily disturbed, half a +dozen men, lanterns and sticks in hand, flung themselves +on the doctor, and, seizing him by the legs and +arms, had him in a twinkling on the floor on the +breadth of his back. Confounded and bewildered as +he was by the extraordinary and appalling circumstances +in which he now found himself—surrounded +with what appeared to him to be a mob—lanterns flitting +about as thick as the sparks on a piece of burned +paper—cudgels bristling around him like a paling—and, +to complete all, a clamour and hubbub of tongues +that might have been heard three streets off;—we +say, confounded and bewildered as he was by these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +sights and sounds, the doctor's pluck did not desert +him. Starting to his feet, and not doubting that he +was in the midst of a mob of housebreakers, he seized +one of the policemen by the throat, when a deadly +struggle ensued, in which the doctor's shirt was, in a +twinkling, torn up into ribbons; in another twinkling +he was floored by a blow from a baton, and rendered +incapable of further resistance.</p> + +<p>The combat had been a most unequal one, and no +other consequence could possibly have arisen from it.</p> + +<p>Having knocked down the doctor, the next business, +as is usual in such and similar cases, was to get him up +again. Accordingly, three or four men got hold of +him by the arms and shoulders, and having raised him +to his feet, planted him, still senseless, in a chair.</p> + +<p>A clamorous consultation, spoken in half a dozen +different dialects, now ensued, as to how the housebreaker +was to be disposed of.</p> + +<p>"We'll teuk him to the office, to pe surely," said a +hard-faced, red-whiskered Celt. "What else you'll do +wi' ta roke that'll proke into shentleman's hoose, and +go to ped as comfortable as a lort. Dam's impitence."</p> + +<p>"Soul, and it's to the office we'll have him, by all +manner o' means, and that in the twinkling of a bedpost," +chimed in a tall raw-boned Irishman, with a +spotted cotton handkerchief tied so high around the +lower part of his face as to bury his mouth. "The +thaif o' the world. It's a free passage across the +wather he'll now get, anyhow, bad luck to him."</p> + +<p>"Fat, tiel, would you tak the man stark naked +through the street?" said a little thick-set Aberdonian. +"It would be verra undecent. There's a bit cloaky +there; throw that aboot his shouthers, and then we'll +link him awa like a water-stoup."</p> + +<p>"Od, ye'll no fin that so easy, I'm thinkin!" exclaimed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +a lumpish, broad-shouldered young fellow. "He's as +fat's a Lochrin distillery pig. He's a hantle mair like +his meat than his wark, that ane."</p> + +<p>Hitherto the unfortunate subject of these remarks +had been able to take no part in what was passing; +but, stupefied by the blow he had received, which had +covered his face with blood, and further confounded +by the various circumstances of the case—his previous +debauch, the violence and suddenness of his awakening, +and the extraordinary clamour and uproar that surrounded +him—he sat, with drooping head and confused +senses, without uttering a word.</p> + +<p>His physical energies, however, gradually recovering +a little, he began to stare about him with a look of +bewilderment; and at length, fixing his eye on the +Irishman, who happened to be standing directly opposite +him, he addressed him with a—</p> + +<p>"Pray, friend, what is the meaning of all this?"</p> + +<p>"Faiks, my purty fellow, and it's yourself that might +be after guessing that with your own 'cute genius," +replied Paddy. "Haven't you half a notion, now, of +what you have been about the same blessed night?"</p> + +<p>"I have a pretty good notion that my house has +been broken into by a parcel of ruffians," said the +doctor, "and that I have been half, perhaps wholly, +murdered by you."</p> + +<p>"Capital, ould fellow; capital," said the Irishman. +"Tell truth, and shame the devil. Your house! Stick +to that, my jewel, and you'll astonish the spalpeens. +But come, come, my tight little mannikin, get up wid +ye. You'll go and have a peep of <i>our</i> house now. +Time about's fair play."</p> + +<p>And he seized the doctor, who was now wrapped in +his cloak, and was forcing him from his seat, when the +latter, resisting this movement, called out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Does no one here know me? Will no one here +protect me? What am I assailed in my own house +in this manner for? My name's Dobbie—Doctor +Dobbie!"</p> + +<p>"Your name's no nosin to nobody, you roke," said +Duncan M'Kay, seconding the efforts of his colleague +to lug the doctor out of his seat. "You'll be one names +to-day and anodder names to-morrow. So shust come +along to ta office, toctor—since you calls yourselfs a +toctor—and teuket a nicht's quarters wi' some o' your +frients that's there afore you."</p> + +<p>"Let's get a grup o' him," exclaimed the broad-shouldered +young fellow already spoken of, edging +himself in to have a share in the honour of laying a +capturing hand on the doctor. "Od, he's as round as +a pokmanky. There's nae getting hand o' him. Come +awa, doctor; come awa, my man. Bailie Morton 'll be +unco glad to see ye," he added, having succeeded in +getting hold of one of the doctor's arms, which he seized +with a grip like a vice.</p> + +<p>Undeterred by the overpowering force with which +he was assailed, the doctor still resisted, vainly announcing +and re-announcing his name and calling. It had +the effect only of increasing the clamour and hubbub +amongst the police, who now all huddled round him in +a mob; and without listening to a word he said, finally +succeeded in carrying him bodily out of the house, in +despite of some desperate struggling, and a great deal +of noisy vociferation on the part of the doctor.</p> + + +<p>THE POLICE OFFICE, AND FINALE.</p> + +<p>Leading off from and immediately behind the public +office, there was a small carpeted room, provided with +a sofa, some chairs, and a writing-desk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> + +<p>This room was appropriated to some of the upper +functionaries connected with the police establishment +of ——, and was the scene of private examinations of +culprits, and of other kinds of proceedings of a private +nature.</p> + +<p>At the time at which we introduce the reader to this +apartment, there lay extended on the sofa above spoken +of, a gentleman who appeared to have seen some recent +service, if one might judge from the circumstance of +his head being bound up in a blood-stained handkerchief, +and his exhibiting some symptoms of languor +and debility. This gentleman was Mr. Thomson, who +was awaiting the result of the expedition which had +gone to examine his house, and whose return he was +now momentarily expecting. Awaiting the same issue +then, and awaiting it in the same apartment, was +another gentleman. This person was a sort of sub-superintendent +of the police; and was, at the moment +of which we speak, busily engaged writing at the desk +formerly mentioned.</p> + +<p>Both of those persons, then, were anxiously waiting +the return of the detachment whose proceedings are +already before the reader, beguiling the time, meanwhile, +by discussing the probabilities of the case. They +were thus engaged, when a tremendous noise in the +outer office gave intimation of an arrival, and one of +no ordinary kind; for the tramping of feet was immense, +and the hubbub astounding.</p> + +<p>"That's <i>them</i>," said Mr. Thomson.</p> + +<p>"I think it is," said the sub.</p> + +<p>Ere any other remark could be made, the door of +the private apartment was opened, and in marched a +short, stout, half-dressed, bloody-faced gentleman, in a +blue cloth cloak, between two policemen, and followed +by a mob of functionaries of the same description, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +stood so thick as to completely block up the door. This +stout, half-dressed gentleman in the blue cloth cloak was +the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, doctor," said Mr. Thomson, advancing +towards the former, whom he at once recognised, +"what's the matter? What terrible affair is this?"</p> + +<p>"Terrible indeed—unheard of, monstrous!" exclaimed +the doctor, in a towering passion. "My +house, sir, has been broken into by these ruffians. I +have been torn from my bed, maltreated in the way +you see, and dragged here like a felon by them, and +for what I know not. But I <i>will</i> know it; and if I +don't—"</p> + +<p>"This is odd, doctor," here interposed Mr. Thomson; +"I have been the victim of a similar kind of violence +to-night, as you may see by the state of my head, +although the case is in other respects somewhat different. +My house has been also broken into."</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul, very strange!" said the doctor, taking +a momentary interest in the misfortunes of his neighbour. +"By these ruffians?" he added, pointing to the police.</p> + +<p>"No, no, not them," replied Thomson; "housebreakers. +Some villains had got into the house; and +I had no sooner entered it, on returning home a little +later than usual, than I was knocked down, dragged +out to the stair, and thrown down, where I was found +in a state of insensibility and brought here."</p> + +<p>The doctor winced a little at this statement: a vague +suspicion, we can hardly say of the fact, but of something +akin thereto, began to glimmer dimly on his +mental optics. He, however, said nothing; nor, even +had he been inclined to say anything, was opportunity +afforded him; for here the presiding official of the place, +the sub-superintendent, to whom the doctor was well +known, and who had impatiently awaited the conclusion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +of the conversation between the latter and Thomson, +interfered with a—</p> + +<p>"Good heaven, doctor, how came you to be in this +situation? What is the meaning of all this?" he added, +turning to his men.</p> + +<p>"The maining's as plain as a pike-staff, your honour," +replied the Irish watchman, to whom we have already +introduced the reader. "We found this little gentleman, +since he turns out to be a gentleman, where he +shouldn't have been."</p> + +<p>"And where was that, pray?" inquired the sub.</p> + +<p>"Why, in Mr. Thomson's house, your honour. And +not only that, but in bed too, as snug as a fox in a +chimbley."</p> + +<p>"In ta fery peds, ta roke!" here chimed in our friend +M'Kay.</p> + +<p>"What! you don't mean to say that you found the +doctor here in <i>Mr. Thomson's</i> house?" said the astonished +official, laying a marked emphasis on the name.</p> + +<p>"To pe surely we do, sir," replied Duncan.</p> + +<p>"I'll tak my Bible oath till't," added another personage, +whom the reader will readily recognise.</p> + +<p>"In my house! The doctor in <i>my</i> house!" exclaimed +Mr. Thomson, in the utmost amazement.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Thomson's house! Me in Mr. Thomson's +house!" said the doctor, with a look of blank dismay; +for a tolerably distinct view of the truth had now begun +to present itself to his mind's eye. It was, therefore, +rather in the desperate hope of there being yet some +chance in his favour, than from any conviction that the +testimony against him was founded in error, that he +added—</p> + +<p>"My <i>own</i> house, you scoundrels; you found me in +my <i>own</i> house!"</p> + +<p>Here the whole mob of policemen simultaneously, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +as if with one voice, shouted—"It's a lie, it's a lie. We +found him in Mr. Thomson's."</p> + +<p>"How do you explain this, doctor?" said Mr. Thomson +mildly, although beginning—he couldn't help it—to +think rather queerly of the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Why, why," replied the crest-fallen and perplexed +doctor, "if I really have been in your house, Mr. +Thomson, although I can't believe it, I must, I must—in +fact, I must have mistaken it for my own. To tell +a truth, I came home rather cut last night; and it is +possible, quite possible, although I can hardly think +probable, that I may have taken your house for my +own. That's the fact," added the doctor, with something +like an appeal to the lenity of the person whose +rights he had so unwittingly usurped, and whose corporeal +substance he had so seriously maltreated.</p> + +<p>"And was it you that knocked me down, doctor?" +said Mr. Thomson. "Too bad that, to knock me down +in my own house."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear sir, I trust I did not. I hope I did +not. But really I don't know; perhaps I—you see, I +thought thieves were coming in, and I—"</p> + +<p>Here a burst of laughter from the presiding officer, +which was instantly taken up by every one in the +apartment, and in which Thomson himself couldn't help +joining, interrupted the doctor's further explanations.</p> + +<p>"Well, doctor," said the latter, who was a good-natured +sort of person, and who, like every one else, +had a kind of esteem for the little medical gentleman, +"I must say that when you broke my head, you were +only in the way of your trade; but I think the least +thing you can do is to mend it for nothing."</p> + +<p>"Most gladly, my dear sir," replied the doctor; "for +I did the damage,—at least I fear it, however unknowingly,—and +am bound to repair it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Done; let it be a bargain," said Thomson. "But, +doctor, be so good as to give me previous notice when +you again desire to take possession of my house. At +any rate, don't knock me down when I come to seek a +share of it."</p> + +<p>The doctor promised to observe the conditions; and +shortly after, the two left the office, arm in arm, in the +most friendly way imaginable.</p> + +<p>It is said, although we cannot vouch for the truth of +the report, that the doctor, after this, fell upon the +expedient of casting a knot on his handkerchief for +each landing-place in the stair as he gained it, when +ascending the latter under such circumstances as those +that gave rise to the awkward occurrence which has +been the subject of these pages.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SEEKER" id="THE_SEEKER"></a>THE SEEKER.</h2> + + +<p>Amongst the many thousand readers of these tales, +there are perhaps few who have not observed that the +object of the writers is frequently of a higher kind than +that of merely contributing to their amusement. They +would wish "to point a moral," while they endeavour +to "adorn a tale." It is with this view that I now +lay before them the history of a <span class="smcap">Seeker</span>. The first +time I remember hearing, or rather of noticing the +term, was in a conversation with a living author respecting +the merits of a popular poet, when, his religious +opinions being adverted to, it was mentioned that, in a +letter to a brother poet of equal celebrity, he described +himself as a <span class="smcap">Seeker</span>. I was struck with the word and +its application. I had never met with the fool who +saith in his heart that there is no God; and though I +had known many deniers of revelation, yet a <span class="smcap">Seeker</span>, +in the sense in which the word was applied, appeared +a new character. But, on reflection, I found it an +epithet applicable to thousands, and adopted it as a +title to our present story.</p> + +<p>Richard Storie was the eldest son of a Dissenting +minister, who had the pastoral charge of a small congregation +a few miles from Hawick. His father was +not what the world calls a man of talent, but he possessed +what is far beyond talents—piety and humanity. +In his own heart he felt his Bible to be true—its words +were as a lamp within him; and from his heart he +poured forth its doctrines, its hopes, and consolations,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +to others, with a fervour and an earnestness which +Faith only can inspire. It is not the thunder of declamation, +the pomp of eloquence, the majesty of +rhetoric, the rounded period, and the glow of imagery, +which can chain the listening soul, and melt down the +heart of the unbeliever, as metals yield to the heat of +the furnace. Show me the hoary-headed preacher, +who carries sincerity in his very look and in his very +tones, who is animated because faith inspires him, and +out of the fulness of his own heart his mouth speaketh, +and there is the man from whose tongue truth floweth +as from the lips of an apostle; and the small still voice +of conscience echoes to his words, while hope burns, +and the judgment becomes convinced. Where faith is +not in the preacher, none will be produced in the +hearer. Such a man was the father of Richard Storie. +He had fulfilled his vows, and prayed with and for his +children. He set before them the example of a +Christian parent, and he rejoiced to perceive that that +example was not lost upon them.</p> + +<p>We pass over the earlier years of Richard Storie, as +during that period he had not become a <span class="smcap">Seeker</span>, nor did +he differ from other children of his age. There was +indeed a thoughtfulness and sensibility about his character; +but these were by no means so remarkable as to +require particular notice, nor did they mark his boyhood +in a peculiar degree. The truths which from +his childhood he had been accustomed to hear from his +father's lips, he had never doubted; but he felt their +truth as he felt his father's love, for both had been imparted +to him together. He had fixed upon the profession +of a surgeon, and at the age of eighteen he +was sent to Edinburgh to attend the classes. He was +a zealous student, and his progress realized the fondest +wishes and anticipations of his parent. It was during<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +his second session that Richard was induced, by some +of his fellow collegians, to become a member of a debating +society. It was composed of many bold and +ambitious young men, who, in the confidence of their +hearts, rashly dared to meddle with things too high for +them. There were many amongst them who regarded +it as a proof of manliness to avow their scepticism, and +who gloried in scoffing at the eternal truths which had +lighted the souls of their fathers when the darkness of +death fell upon their eyelids. It is one of the besetting +sins of youth to appear wise above what is written. +There were many such amongst those with whom Richard +Storie now associated. From them he first heard the +truths which had been poured into his infant ear from +his father's lips attacked, and the tongue of the scoffer +rail against them. His first feeling was horror, and he +shuddered at the impiety of his friends. He rose to +combat their objections and refute their arguments, but +he withdrew not from the society of the wicked. Week +succeeded week, and he became a leading member of +the club. He was no longer filled with horror at the +bold assertions of the avowed sceptic, nor did he manifest +disgust at the ribald jest. As night silently and +imperceptibly creeps through the air, deepening shade +on shade, till the earth lies buried in its darkness, so +had the gloom of <i>Doubt</i> crept over his mind, deepening +and darkening, till his soul was bewildered in the +sunless darkness.</p> + +<p>The members acted as chairman of the society in +rotation, and, in his turn, the office fell upon Eichard +Storie. For the first time, he seemed to feel conscious +of the darkness in which his spirit was enveloped; conscience +haunted him as a hound followeth its prey; and +still its small still voice whispered,</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Who sitteth in the scorner's chair."</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> + +<p>The words seemed burning on his memory. He tried +to forget them, to chase them away—to speak of, to +listen to other things; but he could not. "<i>Who sitteth +in the scorner's chair</i>" rose upon his mind as if printed +before him—as if he heard the words from his father's +tongue—as though they would rise to his own lips. +He was troubled—his conscience smote him—the darkness +in which his soul was shrouded was made visible. +He left his companions—he hastened to his lodgings, +and wept. But his tears brought not back the light +which had been extinguished within him, nor restored +the hopes which the pride and the rashness of reason +had destroyed. He had become the willing prisoner of +<i>Doubt</i>, and it now held him in its cold and iron grasp, +struggling in despair.</p> + +<p>Reason, or rather the self-sufficient arrogance of +fancied talent which frequently assumes its name, endeavoured +to suppress the whisperings of conscience in +his breast; and in such a state of mind was Richard +Storie, when he was summoned to attend the death-bed +of his father. It was winter, and the snow lay deep on +the ground, and there was no conveyance to Hawick +until the following day; but, ere the morrow came, +eternity might be between him and his parent. He +had wandered from the doctrines that parent had +taught, but no blight had yet fallen on the affections +of his heart. He hurried forth on foot; and having +travelled all night in sorrow and anxiety, before daybreak +he arrived at the home of his infancy. Two of +the elders of the congregation stood before the door.</p> + +<p>"Ye are just in time, Mr. Richard," said one of them +mournfully, "for he'll no be lang now; and he has +prayed earnestly that he might only be spared till ye +arrived."</p> + +<p>Richard wept aloud.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, try and compose yoursel', dear sir," said the +elder. "Your distress may break the peace with which +he's like to pass away. It's a sair trial, nae doubt—a +visitation to us a'; but ye ken, Richard, we must not +mourn as those who have no hope."</p> + +<p>"Hope!" groaned the agonized son as he entered +the house. He went towards the room where his father +lay; his mother and his brethren sat weeping around +the bed.</p> + +<p>"Richard!" said his afflicted mother as she rose and +flung her arms around his neck. The dying man heard +the name of his first-born, his languid eyes brightened, +he endeavoured to raise himself upon his pillow, he +stretched forth his feeble hand. "Richard!—my own +Richard!" he exclaimed; "ye hae come, my son; my +prayer is heard, and I can die in peace! I longed to +see ye, for my spirit was troubled upon yer account—sore +and sadly troubled; for there were expressions in +yer last letter that made me tremble—that made me +fear that the pride o' human learning was lifting up the +heart o' my bairn, and leading his judgment into the +dark paths o' error and unbelief; but oh! these tears +are not the tears of an unbeliever!"</p> + +<p>He sank back exhausted. Richard trembled. He +again raised his head.</p> + +<p>"Get the books," said he feebly, "and Richard will +make worship. It is the last time we shall all join together +in praise on this earth, and it will be the last +time I shall hear the voice o' my bairn in prayer, and +it is long since I heard it. Sing the hymn,</p> + +<blockquote><p>'The hour of my departure's come,'</p></blockquote> + +<p>and read the twenty-third psalm."</p> + +<p>Richard did as his dying parent requested; and as +he knelt by the bedside, and lifted up his voice in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +prayer, his conscience smote him, agony pierced his +soul, and his tongue faltered. He now became a +Seeker, seeking mercy and truth at the same moment; +and, in the agitation of his spirit, his secret thoughts +were revealed, his doubts were manifested! A deep +groan issued from the dying-bed. The voice of the +supplicant failed him—his <i>amen</i> died upon his lips; +he started to his feet in confusion.</p> + +<p>"My son! my son!" feebly cried the dying man, +"ye hae lifted yer eyes to the mountains o' vanity, and +the pride o' reason has darkened yer heart, but, as yet, +it has not hardened it. Oh Richard! remember the +last words o' yer dying faither: 'Seek, and ye shall +find.' Pray with an humble and a contrite heart, and +in yer last hour ye will hae, as I hae now, a licht to +guide ye through the dark valley of the shadow of +death."</p> + +<p>He called his wife and his other children around +him—he blessed them—he strove to comfort them—he +committed them to his care who is the Husband of +the widow and the Father of the fatherless. The lustre +that lighted up his eyes for a moment, as he besought a +blessing on them, vanished away, his head sank back +upon his pillow, a low moan was heard, and his spirit +passed into peace.</p> + +<p>His father's death threw a blight upon the prospects +of Richard. He no longer possessed the means of prosecuting +his studies; and in order to support himself +and assist his mother, he engaged himself as tutor in the +family of a gentleman in East Lothian. But there his +doubts followed him, and melancholy sat upon his breast. +He had thoughtlessly, almost imperceptibly, stepped into +the gloomy paths of unbelief, and anxiously he groped +to retrace his steps; but it was as a blind man stumbles; +and in wading through the maze of controversy for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +guide, his way became more intricate, and the darkness +of his mind more intense. He repented that he had ever +listened to the words of the scoffer, or sat in the chair +of the scorner; but he had permitted the cold mists of +scepticism to gather round his mind, till even the affections +of his heart became blighted by their influence. +He was now a solitary man, shunning society; and at +those hours when his pupils were not under his charge, +he would wander alone in the wood or by the river, +brooding over unutterable thoughts, and communing +with despair; for he sought not, as is the manner of +many, to instil the poison that had destroyed his own +peace into the minds of others. He carried his punishment +in his soul, and was silent—in the soul that was +doubting its own existence! Of all hypochondriacs, +to me the unbeliever seems the most absurd. For can +matter think? can it reason, can it doubt? Is it not the +thing that doubts which distrusts its own being? Often +when he so wandered, the last words of his father—"Seek, +and ye shall find"—were whispered in his heart, +as though the spirit of the departed breathed them over +him. Then would he raise his hands in agony, and his +prayer rose from the solitude of the woods.</p> + +<p>After acting about two years as tutor, he returned +to Edinburgh and completed his studies. Having +with difficulty, from the scantiness of his means, obtained +his diplomas, he commenced practice in his +native village. His brothers and his sisters had arrived +at manhood and womanhood, and his mother enjoyed +a small annuity. Almost from boyhood he had been +deeply attached to Agnes Brown, the daughter of a +neighbouring farmer; and about three years after he +had commenced practice, she bestowed on him her +hand. She was all that his heart could wish—meek, +gentle, and affectionate; and her anxious love threw a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +gleam of sunshine over the melancholy that had settled +upon his soul. Often, when he fondly gazed in her +eyes, where affection beamed, the hope of immortality +would flash through his bosom; for one so good, so +made of all that renders virtue dear, but to be born to +die and to be no more, he deemed impossible. They +had been married about nine years, and Agnes had +become the mother of five fair children, when in one +day death entered their dwelling, and robbed them of +two of their little ones. The neighbours had gathered +together to comfort them, and the mother in silent +anguish wept over her babes; but the father stood +tearless and stricken with grief, as though his hopes +were sealed up in the coffin of his children. In his +agony he uttered words of strange meaning. The +doubts of the Seeker burst forth in the accents of +despair. The neighbours gazed at each other. They +had before had doubts of the religious principles of +Dr. Storie; now those doubts were confirmed. Many +began to regard him as an unsafe man to visit a death-bed, +where he might attempt to rob the dying of the +everlasting hope which enables them to triumph over +the last enemy. His practice fell off, and the wants +of his family increased. He was no longer able to +maintain an appearance of respectability. His circumstances +aggravated the gloom of his mind; and for a +time he became, not a Seeker, but one who abandoned +himself to callousness and despair. Even the affection +of his wife—which knew no change, but rather increased +as affliction and misfortune came upon them—with +the smiles and affection of his children, became +irksome. Their love increased his misery. His own +house was all but forsaken, and the blacksmith's shop +became his consulting room, the village alehouse his +laboratory. Misery and contempt heightened the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +"shadows, clouds, and darkness" which rested on his +mind. To his anguish and excitement he had now +added habits of intemperance; his health became a +wreck, and he sank upon his bed, a miserable and a +ruined man. The shadow of death seemed lowering +over him, and he lay trembling, shrinking from its +approach, shuddering and brooding over the cheerless, +the horrible thought—<i>annihilation</i>! But, even then, +his poor Agnes watched over him with a love stronger +than death. She strove to cheer him with the thought +that he would still live—that they would again be +happy. "Oh my husband!" cried she fondly, "yield +not to despair; <i>seek, and ye shall find</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Oh heavens, Agnes!" exclaimed he, "I have sought!—I +have sought! I have been a <span class="smcap">Seeker</span> until now; +but Truth flees from me, Hope mocks me, and the +terrors of Death only find me!"</p> + +<p>"Kneel with me, my children," she cried; "let us +pray for mercy and peace of mind for your poor father!" +And the fond wife and her offspring knelt around the +bed where her husband lay. A gleam of joy passed +over the sick man's countenance, as the voice of her +supplication rose upon his ear, and a ray of hope fell +upon his heart. "<i>Amen</i>!" he uttered as she arose; and +"<i>Amen</i>!" responded their children.</p> + +<p>On the bed of sickness his heart had been humbled; +he had, as it were, seen death face to face; and the +nearer it approached, the stronger assurances did he +feel of the immortality he had dared to doubt. He +arose from his bed a new man; hope illumined, and +faith began to glow in his bosom. His doubts were +vanquished, his fears dispelled. He had sought, and +at length found the hopes of the Christian.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SURGEONS_TALES" id="THE_SURGEONS_TALES"></a>THE SURGEON'S TALES.</h2> + +<h3>THE WAGER.<a name="FNanchor_3_" id="FNanchor_3_"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></h3> + + +<p>About thirty years ago, the office of carrier between +Edinburgh and a certain town on the north of the Tay +was discharged by a person of the name of George +Skirving. At the time of which we speak he might +be about forty-five years of age, a man of considerable +physical strength, and with as much mental firmness as +will be found among the generality of mankind. His +occupation, in travelling during night, required often +the confirming influence of personal courage, to keep +him from being alarmed; and his activity, and exposure +to the fresh air of both land and water, were conducive +to bodily health and elasticity of spirits. He +was at once a faithful carrier and a good companion +on the road, along which he was generally respected; +and, by attention to business and economical habits of +living, he had been enabled to realize as much money +as might suffice to sustain him, with his wife and three +children, in the event of his being disabled, by accident +or ill health, from following his ordinary employment.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_" id="Footnote_3_"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> This strange tale is given from materials supplied by the +Surgeon with whom I was brought up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p></div> + +<p>The day in which George Skirving left the northern +town for Edinburgh, was Wednesday of each week; and +he started at the hour of seven, both in winter and summer. +On one occasion, in the month of August, he set +out from his quarters at his usual hour; and having +crossed the Tay with his goods, proceeded on his way</p> + +<p>through Fife. He had with him his dog Wolf, who +usually served him as a companion; his waggons were +loaded with goods, the proceeds of the carriage of which +he counted as he trudged along; and he now and then +had recourse to a small flask of spirits which his wife +had, without his knowledge, and contrary to her usual +custom, placed in the breast-pocket of his great-coat. +He was thus in good spirits; and as he applied himself +with great moderation—for he was a sober man—to +his inspiring companion, he jocularly blamed Betty +(such was the name of his consort) for defrauding his +houses of call on the road of the custom he used to +bestow on them.</p> + +<p>"It was kind o' ye, Betty," he said; "but it saves +naething; for if I, wha have travelled this road for sae +mony years, were to pass John Sharpe's, or Widow +M'Murdo's, or Andrew Gemmel's, without takin' my +usual allowance, I would be set doun as fey or mad. I +maun gae through a' my usual routine—mak my ca's, +order my drams, drink them, and pay for them, as I +hae dune for twenty years. Men are just like clocks—some +gae owre fast, and some owre slow; but the +carrier, beyond a', maun keep to his time aye, and <i>chap</i> +at the proper time and place, or idleness and beggary +would soon mak time hang weary on his hands."</p> + +<p>He had trudged onwards in his slow pace for a space +of about eight miles, and was at the distance of about +three from Cupar, when he was accosted by a person of +the name of James Cowie, an inhabitant of Dundee, with +whom he had for a long time been in habits of intimacy.</p> + +<p>"You are weel forward the day, George," said Cowie. +"Ye'll be in Cupar before your time. There's rowth +a parcels for ye at John Sharpe's door, yonder. But, +mercy on me!" he continued, starting and looking +amazed, "what's the matter wi' ye, man?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Naething," replied George. "I hae been takin' a +few draps o' Betty's cordial, here," pointing to the flask, +"and maybe the colour may have mounted to my face."</p> + +<p>"The colour mounted to your face, man!" ejaculated +Cowie. "Is it whiteness—paleness—ye mean by colour? +Ye're like a clout, man—a bleached clout. There's +something wrang, rely upon it, George; some o' that +intricate machinery o' our fearfu' systems out o' joint. +Is it possible ye have felt or feel nae change?"</p> + +<p>"Nane whatever, Jamie," answered the carrier, somewhat +alarmed. "You're surely joking me; I never +felt better i' my life. No, no, Jamie, there's naething +the matter; thank God, I'm in gude health."</p> + +<p>"It's weel ye think sae," replied Cowie, with a satirical +tone; "but if I'm no cheated, ye're on the brink +o' some fearfu' disease. Get up on your cart, man; +hasten to Cupar, an' speak to Doctor Lowrie. It's a +braw thing to tak diseases in time."</p> + +<p>"If a white face is a' ye judge by," said George, attempting +to make light of the matter, "I can remove +it by an application to Betty's cordial."</p> + +<p>"Ay, do that," said Cowie ironically, "and add fuel +to the flame. If I werena your friend, I wadna tak +this liberty wi' ye. I assure ye again, an' I hae some +judgment o' thae matters, that ye're very ill. That's +no an ordinary paleness: your lips are blue, an' your +eyes dull an' heavy—sure signs o' an oncome. Haste +ye to Cupar an' get advice, an' ye may yet ca' me your +best friend."</p> + +<p>As he finished these words, Cowie turned to proceed +onwards towards Newport.</p> + +<p>"Ye've either said owre little or owre muckle, +James," replied George, after a slight pause, and resigning +his carelessness.</p> + +<p>"I hae just said the truth, George," added Cowie;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +"but I maun be in Dundee by one o'clock, an' canna +wait. I'll say naething to Mrs. Skirving to alarm her; +but, for God's sake, tak my advice, an' consult Doctor +Lowrie."</p> + +<p>He proceeded on his journey, leaving Skirving in +doubt and perplexity. At first he was considerably +affected by Cowie's speech and manner, because he +knew him to be a serious man, and averse to all manner +of joking. It was possible, he admitted, that a disease +might be lurking secretly in his vitals, unknown to +himself, but discernible to another; and the circumstance +of his wife having put the flask of cordial in his +coat-pocket, seemed to indicate that she had observed +something wrong before he set out, and had been afraid +to communicate it to him, in case it might alarm him. +His spirits sank, as this confirmation of Cowie's statement +came to his mind; he put his right hand to his +left wrist, to feel the state of the pulse, and, as might +have been expected, discovered (for he overlooked the +effects of his fear) that it was much quicker than it +used to be when he was in perfect health.</p> + +<p>Having been taken thus by surprise, he remained in +a state of considerable depression for some time; but +when he came to think of the inadequate grounds of +his alarm, he began to rally; and his mind, rebounding, +as it were, on the cessation of the depressing +reverie, threw off the fear, and he recovered so far his +natural courage as to laugh at the strange fancy that +had taken possession of him.</p> + +<p>"I was a fule," he said to himself. "What though +my face be pale, and my eyes heavy, and my pulse a +little quicker than usual, am I to dee for a' that? +Cowie has probably had his <i>morning</i>; and truly his +appearance, now when I think of it, didna assort ill +wi' that supposition. Johnny Sharpe and he are auld<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +cronies, and they couldna part without some wet pledge +o' their auld friendship. I'll wad my best horse on +the point. Ha! ha! what a fule I was!" He accompanied +these words by again feeling his pulse. The +fear was greatly off, the pulsations had become more +regular; and this confirmation enabled him to laugh +off the effects the extraordinary announcements had +made upon him.</p> + +<p>He proceeded onwards to Cupar, and stopped at +John Sharpe's inn. The landlord was at the door. +George looked at him narrowly, as he saluted him in +the ordinary form. He thought the innkeeper looked +also very narrowly at him, as he answered his salutation; +but he was afraid to broach the question of his +sickly appearance, and hurried away to get the goods +packed that stood at the inn door. Having finished +his work, during which he thought he saw the landlord +looking strangely at him, he called for the quantity +of spirits he was usually in the habit of getting, +and, as he filled out the glass, asked quickly if James +Cowie had been there that morning. The landlord +answered that he had; but added, of his own accord, +that he did not remain in the house so long as to give +time for even drinking to each other. This answer +produced a greater effect upon George than he was +even then aware of; and it is not unlikely that this, +and the impression that the landlord looked at him +<i>strangely</i>, produced the very paleness that Cowie had +mentioned. Be that as it may, he took up the glass of +spirits and laid it down again, without almost tasting +it; and his reason for this departure from his ordinary +course, was, that he had already partaken sufficiently +of his wife's cordial; and he had some strange misgivings +about drinking ardent spirits, in case, after all, +it might turn out that there was hanging about him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +some disease. The moment he laid down the full glass, +the landlord said to him, looking in an inquiring and +sympathetic manner into his face—</p> + +<p>"George, I haena seen you do that for ten years. +Are you well enough?"</p> + +<p>"What! what! eh, what!" stammered out the carrier +confusedly; "do you think I'm ill, John?"</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the +inn bell rang, and the landlord was called away, and, +being otherwise occupied, did not return. After waiting +for him a considerable time, Skirving became impatient, +and, making another effort to shake off his fears, +applied the whip to his horses, and proceeded on his +journey. For a time his mind was so much confused +that he could not contemplate the whole import of the +extraordinary coincidence he had just witnessed; but +as he proceeded and came to a quieter part of the road, +his thoughts reverted to the statements of James Cowie—who, +he was now satisfied, had been quite sober—to +the looks and extraordinary question of John Sharpe, +and to the intention of his wife in providing him with +the cordial. As he pondered on this strange accumulation +of according facts, he again felt his pulse, which +had again risen to the height it had attained during +the prior paroxysm. The affair had now assumed a +new aspect. It was impossible that this concurrence +of circumstances could be fortuitous. He was now +much afraid that he was ill—very ill indeed; perhaps +under the incipient symptoms of typhus or brain fever, +or small-pox, or some other dreadful disease. As +these thoughts rose in his mind, he grew faint, and +would have sat down; but he felt a reluctance to stop +his carts, and a feeling of shame struggled against his +conviction, and kept him walking.</p> + +<p>This state of nervous excitement remained, in spite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +of many efforts he made to throw off his fears. Yet +he was bound to admit that he felt no symptoms +of pain or sickness. By and by the feeling of alarm +began again to decay, and by the time he got eight +or ten miles farther on his road, he had conjured up +a good many sustaining ideas and arguments, whereby +he at least contrived to increase the quantum of <i>doubt</i> +of his being really ill. He rallied a little again; +but the temporary elevation was destined to be succeeded +by another depression, which, in its turn, gave +place to another accession of relief; and thus he was +kept in a painful alternation of changing fancies, until +he was within a mile and a half of the next place +of call—a little house at some distance from the Plasterers' +Inn.</p> + +<p>He had hitherto been progressing at a very slow +rate, and was in the act of raising his hand to apply +the whip to his horses, when he saw before him Archibald +Willison, a sort of itinerant cloth merchant, a +native of Dundee, with whom he was on terms of intimacy. +They had met often on the road, and had +gossiped together over a little refreshment at the inns +where the carrier stopped. At this particular time, +George Skirving would rather have avoided his old +friend; for he was under a depression of spirits, and +felt also a disinclination or fear, he could not account +for, to submit his face and appearance to the lynx eye +of the travelling merchant. He had, however, no +choice.</p> + +<p>"Ah, George," cried Archie, "it's lang since I saw +ye. How are ye? What!"—starting as if surprised—"have +ye been lyin', man—confined—sick?—what, +in God's name, has been the matter wi' ye? Some sad +complaint, surely, to produce so mighty a change!"</p> + +<p>This address seemed to George just the very confir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>mation +he now required to make him perfectly satisfied +of his danger. It was too much for him to hear and +suffer. Staggering back, he leant upon the side of his +cart, and drew breath with difficulty, attempting in +vain to give his friend some reply.</p> + +<p>"It's wrang in ye, man," continued Archie, as he saw +the carrier labouring to find words to reply to him—"it's +wrang in ye, George, to be here in that state o' +body. How did Betty permit it? Wha wad guarantee +your no lyin' doun an' deein' by the road-side? I'm +sure I wadna undertake the suretyship."</p> + +<p>"I have not been a day confined, Archie," said +George, as he slightly recovered from the shock caused +by the announcement. "I have not been ill; and left +home this morning in my usual health."</p> + +<p>"Good God!" ejaculated Archie, "is that possible? +Then is it sae muckle the waur. I thought it had been +a' owre wi' ye—that ye had been ill, an' partly recovered; +but now I see the disease is only comin' yet. +How deadly pale ye are, man; an' what a strange +colour there is on your lips, round the sockets o' your +een, an' the edges o' your nostrils!"</p> + +<p>"I hae been told that the day already, Archie," said +George; "I fear there's some truth in't. Yet I feel +nae pain; I'm only weak an' nervous."</p> + +<p>"Ah, ye ken little about fevers o' the putrid kind—typhus, +an' the like," continued the other,—"when ye +think they show themselves by ordinary symptoms. I +had a cousin who died o' typhus last week; an' he +looked, when he took it, just as ye look, an' spoke just +as ye speak. Tak the advice o' a friend, George. +Dinna stop at Widow M'Murdo's; ye can get nae +advice there; hurry on to Edinburgh, and apply immediately, +on your arrival, to a doctor o' repute. I +assure ye a' his skill will be required."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> + +<p>After some conversation, all tending to the same +effect, Willison parted from him, continuing his route +to Cupar. All the doubt that had existed in the mind +of the victim was now removed, and a settled conviction +took hold of him that he was on the very eve of +falling into some terrible illness. A train of gloomy +fancies took possession of his mind, and he pictured +himself lying extended on a bed of sickness, with the +angel of death hanging over him, and an awakened +conscience within, wringing him with its agonizing +tortures. The nature of the disease which impended +over him—the putrid typhus—was fixed, and put beyond +doubt; and all the cases he had known of individuals +who had died of that disease were brought before +the eye of his imagination, to feed the appetite for +horrors, which now began to crave food. He endeavoured +to analyze his sensations, and discovered, what +he never felt before, a hard, fluttering palpitation at +his heart, a difficulty of breathing, weakness, trembling +of the limbs, and other clear indications of the oncoming +attack of a fatal disease.</p> + +<p>Moving slowly forward, under the load of these +thoughts, he arrived at Widow M'Murdo's, where he +fed his horses. He was silent and gloomy; and the +fear under which he laboured produced a <i>real</i> appearance +of illness, which soon struck the eye of the kind +dame.</p> + +<p>"What ails ye?" asked she kindly; and ran and +brought out her bottle of cordial, to administer to him +that universal medicine. But her question was enough. +Moody and miserable, he paid little attention to her +kindness, and departed for Kirkcaldy. Under the +same load of despondency and apprehension, he arrived +at Andrew Gemmel's, where it was his practice to +remain all night. He exhibited the appearance of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +person labouring under some grievous misfortune; and +deputing the feeding of his horses to the ostler, he +seemed to be careless whether justice was done to them +or not. The landlord noticed the change that had +taken place upon him. "What ails ye, George?" was +asked repeatedly; and the death-like import of the +question prevented him from giving any satisfactory +answer. Long before his usual period, he retired to +his bed, where he passed a night of fevered dreams, +restlessness, and misery.</p> + +<p>In the morning, he was still under the operation of +his apprehension, and was unable to take any breakfast. +The ostler managed for him all the details of his +business, and he departed in the same gloomy mood for +Pettycur. Sauntering along at a slow pace, he met, half-way +between the two towns, Duncan Paterson, a Dundee +weaver, an old acquaintance, by whom he was +hailed in the ordinary form of salutation. But he +wished to proceed without standing to speak to his old +friend; for he was so sorely depressed, and was so +much afraid of another fearful announcement about his +sickly appearance, that he could not bear an interview. +This strange conduct seemed to rouse the curiosity of +his friend, who, running up to him, held forth his hand, +crying out—</p> + +<p>"Ha! George, man!—this is no like you, to pass +auld friends. What ails ye, man?"</p> + +<p>"I dinna feel altogether weel," answered the carrier +in a mournful tone.</p> + +<p>"I saw that, man, lang before ye cam up," replied +the other; "and it was just because ye were looking +so grievously ill, that I was determined to speak to ye. +When were ye seized?"</p> + +<p>"I was weel when I left the north, yesterday morning; +but I hadna been lang on the road, when I began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +to gie tokens o' illness," replied the carrier mournfully, +and with a drooping head.</p> + +<p>"If I had met you in that waefu' state," said the +other, "with that death-like face and unnatural-like +look, I wadna have allowed ye to proceed a mile farther; +but now since ye're sae far on the road, it's just as weel +that ye hurry on to Edinburgh, whaur ye'll get the best +advice. What symptoms do ye feel?"</p> + +<p>"I'm heavy and dull," replied George; "my pulse +rises and fa's, my heart throbs, and my legs hae been +shakin' under me, as if I were palsied."</p> + +<p>"Ah, George, George! these are a' clear signs o' +typhus, man," replied Paterson. "My mother died o't. +I watched, wi' filial care and affection, a' her maist +minute symptoms. They were just yours. I'm vexed +for ye; but maybe the hand o' a skilfu' doctor may avert +the usual fatal issue."</p> + +<p>"Was yer mither lang ill?" asked George in a low +tone.</p> + +<p>"Nine days," answered Paterson. "By the seventh +she was spotted like a leopard, on the eighth she went +mad, and the ninth put an end to her sufferings."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," muttered George, with a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"But the power o' medicine's great," rejoined Paterson. +"Lose nae time, after ye arrive in Edinburgh, in +applying to a doctor. Mind my words."</p> + +<p>And Paterson, casting upon him a look suited to the +parting statement, left the carrier, and proceeded on his +way. The victim, now completely immerged in melancholy, +progressed slowly onwards to Pettycur. His +downcast appearance attracted there the attention of +the people who assisted him in the discharge of his business. +The question, "What ails ye, George?" was repeated, +and answered by silence and a sorrowful look. +In the boat in which he crossed the Forth, his unusual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +sadness was also noticed by the captain and crew, with +whom he was intimately acquainted. As he sat in the +fore-part of the vessel, silent and gloomy, they repeated +the dreadful question—"What ails ye, George?"—that +had been so often before put to him. To some he said +he felt unwell, to others he replied by a melancholy +stare, and relapsed again into his melancholy.</p> + +<p>When he arrived at Leith, he was assisted, according +to custom, by porters, in getting his goods disembarked. +The men were not long in noticing the great change +that had taken place upon his spirits. "What ails ye, +George?" was the uniform question; and every time +it was put it went to his heart, for it showed more and +more, as he thought, his sick-like appearance, which +seemed to escape the eyes of no one. The men assisted +him more assiduously than they had ever done before; +and having got everything ready, he proceeded +up Leith Walk. The toll-man noticed also his dejected +appearance, and the same question was put by him. +He proceeded to his quarters, and, committing his carts +to a man that was in the habit of assisting him, he went +into the house and threw himself into a chair. "What +ails ye, George?" exclaimed Widow Gilmour, as she +saw him exhibiting these indications of illness. He +said he felt unwell, and, rising, went away up to his +bedroom, where he retired to bed.</p> + +<p>The torture of mind to which he had been exposed +for a day and a night, and a part of another day, with +the want of food, and the exercise of his trade, had +operated so powerfully on his body, that he was now +in reality in a fever. The landlady felt his pulse, and, +becoming alarmed, sent for a doctor, a young man, who +immediately bled him to a much greater extent than +was necessary; but the statements of George himself, +and the fevered appearance he presented, convinced the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +young doctor that nothing but copious bleeding would +overcome the disease. The application of the lancet +stamped the whole affair with the character of reality; +and the sick man, still overcome by gloomy anticipations, +was soon in the very height of a dangerous fever. +Two days afterwards, his wife was sent for; but the +poor man got gradually worse, and, notwithstanding all +the efforts of the doctor, was soon pronounced to be in +a state of imminent danger. One day James Cowie +called at the house, and inquired, in a flurried manner, +how George Skirving was.</p> + +<p>"He is sae ill that I hae very little hope o' him," +said Mrs. Skirving.</p> + +<p>"Good God!" replied the man, "is it possible? I +have murdered him." And he groaned in distress.</p> + +<p>"What do ye mean, James?"</p> + +<p>"Six o' us wagered, three against three, and twa to +ane," he proceeded, "that our side wadna put your +husband to his bed. We met him in Fife at different +places o' the road, and terrified him, by describing his +looks, into an opinion that he was unwell. I'm come +to make amends. What is the £10 to me when the +life o' a fellow-creature is at jeopardy?"</p> + +<p>It was too late. We need say no more. The communication +was made to the sick man; but he was too +far gone to recover, and died in a few days afterwards. +This is a true tale, and requires little more explanation. +It may have been gathered from our narrative, that +Cowie, Willison, and Paterson were the only persons +who were in the plot. John Sharpe, Widow M'Murdo, +Andrew Gemmel, and the others who merely noticed his +dejection, were entirely ignorant of the cruel purpose.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of +Scotland Volume 21, by Alexander Leighton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILSON'S TALES OF THE *** + +***** This file should be named 37336-h.htm or 37336-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/3/3/37336/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Katie Hernandez and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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