( PDF ) Rob Roy, Volume 2., Illustrated

Download PDF

ads:

Rob Roy, Volume 2., Illustrated

Sir Walter Scott

Project Gutenberg's Rob Roy, Volume 2., Illustrated, by Sir Walter Scott

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.net

Title: Rob Roy, Volume 2., Illustrated

Author: Sir Walter Scott

Release Date: August 23, 2004 [EBook #7024]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROB ROY, VOLUME 2., ILLUSTRATED ***

Produced by David Widger

[Illustration: Bookcover]

[Illustration: Spines]

ROB ROY

By Sir Walter Scott

VOLUME TWO

[Illustration: Helen MacGregor--Frontispiece]

CHAPTER FIRST

And hurry, hurry, off they rode,

As fast as fast might be;

Hurra, hurra, the dead can ride,

ads:

Livros Grátis

http://www.livrosgratis.com.br

Milhares de livros grátis para download.

Dost fear to ride with me?

Burger.

There is one advantage in an accumulation of evils, differing in cause

and character, that the distraction which they afford by their

contradictory operation prevents the patient from being overwhelmed under

either. I was deeply grieved at my separation from Miss Vernon, yet not

so much so as I should have been, had not my father's apprehended

distresses forced themselves on my attention; and I was distressed by the

news of Mr. Tresham, yet less so than if they had fully occupied my mind.

I was neither a false lover nor an unfeeling son; but man can give but a

certain portion of distressful emotions to the causes which demand them;

and if two operate at once, our sympathy, like the funds of a compounding

bankrupt, can only be divided between them. Such were my reflections when

I gained my apartment--it seems, from the illustration, they already

began to have a twang of commerce in them.

I set myself seriously to consider your father's letter. It was not very

distinct, and referred for several particulars to Owen, whom I was

entreated to meet with as soon as possible at a Scotch town called

Glasgow; being informed, moreover, that my old friend was to be heard of

at Messrs. MacVittie, MacFin, and Company, merchants in the Gallowgate of

the said town. It likewise alluded to several letters,--which, as it

appeared to me, must have miscarried or have been intercepted, and

complained of my obdurate silence, in terms which would have, been highly

unjust, had my letters reached their purposed destination. I was amazed

as I read. That the spirit of Rashleigh walked around me, and conjured up

these doubts and difficulties by which I was surrounded, I could not

doubt for one instant; yet it was frightful to conceive the extent of

combined villany and power which he must have employed in the

perpetration of his designs. Let me do myself justice in one respect. The

evil of parting from Miss Vernon, however distressing it might in other

respects and at another time have appeared to me, sunk into a subordinate

consideration when I thought of the dangers impending over my father. I

did not myself set a high estimation on wealth, and had the affectation

of most young men of lively imagination, who suppose that they can better

dispense with the possession of money, than resign their time and

faculties to the labour necessary to acquire it. But in my father's case,

I knew that bankruptcy would be considered as an utter and irretrievable

disgrace, to which life would afford no comfort, and death the speediest

and sole relief.

My mind, therefore, was bent on averting this catastrophe, with an

intensity which the interest could not have produced had it referred to

my own fortunes; and the result of my deliberation was a firm resolution

to depart from Osbaldistone Hall the next day and wend my way without

loss of time to meet Owen at Glasgow. I did not hold it expedient to

intimate my departure to my uncle, otherwise than by leaving a letter of

thanks for his hospitality, assuring him that sudden and important

business prevented my offering them in person. I knew the blunt old

knight would readily excuse ceremony; and I had such a belief in the

extent and decided character of Rashleigh's machinations, that I had some

apprehension of his having provided means to intercept a journey which

was undertaken with a view to disconcert them, if my departure were

publicly announced at Osbaldistone Hall.

I therefore determined to set off on my journey with daylight on the

ensuing morning, and to gain the neighbouring kingdom of Scotland before

any idea of my departure was entertained at the Hall. But one impediment

ads:

of consequence was likely to prevent that speed which was the soul of my

expedition. I did not know the shortest, nor indeed any road to Glasgow;

and as, in the circumstances in which I stood, despatch was of the

greatest consequence, I determined to consult Andrew Fairservice on the

subject, as the nearest and most authentic authority within my reach.

Late as it was, I set off with the intention of ascertaining this

important point, and after a few minutes' walk reached the dwelling of

the gardener.

Andrew's dwelling was situated at no great distance from the exterior

wall of the garden--a snug comfortable Northumbrian cottage, built of

stones roughly dressed with the hammer, and having the windows and doors

decorated with huge heavy architraves, or lintels, as they are called, of

hewn stone, and its roof covered with broad grey flags, instead of

slates, thatch, or tiles. A jargonelle pear-tree at one end of the

cottage, a rivulet and flower-plot of a rood in extent in front, and a

kitchen-garden behind; a paddock for a cow, and a small field, cultivated

with several crops of grain, rather for the benefit of the cottager than

for sale, announced the warm and cordial comforts which Old England, even

at her most northern extremity, extends to her meanest inhabitants.

As I approached the mansion of the sapient Andrew, I heard a noise,

which, being of a nature peculiarly solemn, nasal, and prolonged, led me

to think that Andrew, according to the decent and meritorious custom of

his countrymen, had assembled some of his neighbours to join in family

exercise, as he called evening devotion. Andrew had indeed neither wife,

child, nor female inmate in his family. "The first of his trade," he

said, "had had eneugh o'thae cattle." But, notwithstanding, he sometimes

contrived to form an audience for himself out of the neighbouring Papists

and Church-of-Englandmen--brands, as he expressed it, snatched out of the

burning, on whom he used to exercise his spiritual gifts, in defiance

alike of Father Vaughan, Father Docharty, Rashleigh, and all the world of

Catholics around him, who deemed his interference on such occasions an

act of heretical interloping. I conceived it likely, therefore, that the

well-disposed neighbours might have assembled to hold some chapel of ease

of this nature. The noise, however, when I listened to it more

accurately, seemed to proceed entirely from the lungs of the said Andrew;

and when I interrupted it by entering the house, I found Fairservice

alone, combating as he best could, with long words and hard names, and

reading aloud, for the purpose of his own edification, a volume of

controversial divinity.

"I was just taking a spell," said he, laying aside the huge folio volume

as I entered, "of the worthy Doctor Lightfoot."

"Lightfoot!" I replied, looking at the ponderous volume with some

surprise; "surely your author was unhappily named."

"Lightfoot was his name, sir; a divine he was, and another kind of a

divine than they hae now-adays. Always, I crave your pardon for keeping

ye standing at the door, but having been mistrysted (gude preserve us!)

with ae bogle the night already, I was dubious o' opening the yett till I

had gaen through the e'ening worship; and I had just finished the fifth

chapter of Nehemiah--if that winna gar them keep their distance, I wotna

what will."

"Trysted with a bogle!" said I; "what do you mean by that, Andrew?"

"I said mistrysted," replied Andrew; "that is as muckle as to say, fley'd

wi' a ghaist--Gude preserve us, I say again!"

"Flay'd by a ghost, Andrew! how am I to understand that?"

"I did not say flay'd," replied Andrew, "but _fley'd,_--that is, I got a

fleg, and was ready to jump out o' my skin, though naebody offered to

whirl it aff my body as a man wad bark a tree."

"I beg a truce to your terrors in the present case, Andrew, and I wish to

know whether you can direct me the nearest way to a town in your country

of Scotland, called Glasgow?"

"A town ca'd Glasgow!" echoed Andrew Fairservice. "Glasgow's a ceety,

man.--And is't the way to Glasgow ye were speering if I ken'd?--What suld

ail me to ken it?--it's no that dooms far frae my ain parish of

Dreepdaily, that lies a bittock farther to the west. But what may your

honour be gaun to Glasgow for?"

"Particular business," replied I.

"That's as muckle as to say, Speer nae questions, and I'll tell ye nae

lees.--To Glasgow?"--he made a short pause--"I am thinking ye wad be the

better o' some ane to show you the road."

"Certainly, if I could meet with any person going that way."

"And your honour, doubtless, wad consider the time and trouble?"

"Unquestionably--my business is pressing, and if you can find any guide

to accompany me, I'll pay him handsomely."

"This is no a day to speak o' carnal matters," said Andrew, casting his

eyes upwards; "but if it werena Sabbath at e'en, I wad speer what ye wad

be content to gie to ane that wad bear ye pleasant company on the road,

and tell ye the names of the gentlemen's and noblemen's seats and

castles, and count their kin to ye?"

"I tell you, all I want to know is the road I must travel; I will pay the

fellow to his satisfaction--I will give him anything in reason."

"Onything," replied Andrew, "is naething; and this lad that I am speaking

o' kens a' the short cuts and queer by-paths through the hills, and"--

"I have no time to talk about it, Andrew; do you make the bargain for me

your own way."

"Aha! that's speaking to the purpose," answered Andrew.--"I am thinking,

since sae be that sae it is, I'll be the lad that will guide you mysell."

"You, Andrew?--how will you get away from your employment?"

"I tell'd your honour a while syne, that it was lang that I hae been

thinking o' flitting, maybe as lang as frae the first year I came to

Osbaldistone Hall; and now I am o' the mind to gang in gude

earnest--better soon as syne--better a finger aff as aye wagging."

"You leave your service, then?--but will you not lose your wages?"

"Nae doubt there will be a certain loss; but then I hae siller o' the

laird's in my hands that I took for the apples in the auld orchyard--and

a sair bargain the folk had that bought them--a wheen green trash--and

yet Sir Hildebrand's as keen to hae the siller (that is, the steward is

as pressing about it) as if they had been a' gowden pippins--and then

there's the siller for the seeds--I'm thinking the wage will be in a

manner decently made up.--But doubtless your honour will consider my risk

of loss when we win to Glasgow--and ye'll be for setting out forthwith?"

"By day-break in the morning," I answered.

"That's something o' the suddenest--whare am I to find a naig?--Stay--I

ken just the beast that will answer me."

"At five in the morning, then, Andrew, you will meet me at the head of

the avenue."

"Deil a fear o' me (that I suld say sae) missing my tryste," replied

Andrew, very briskly; "and if I might advise, we wad be aff twa hours

earlier. I ken the way, dark or light, as weel as blind Ralph Ronaldson,

that's travelled ower every moor in the country-side, and disna ken the

colour of a heather-cowe when a's dune."

I highly approved of Andrew's amendment on my original proposal, and we

agreed to meet at the place appointed at three in the morning. At once,

however, a reflection came across the mind of my intended travelling

companion.

"The bogle! the bogle! what if it should come out upon us?--I downa

forgather wi' thae things twice in the four-and-twenty hours."

"Pooh! pooh!" I exclaimed, breaking away from him, "fear nothing from the

next world--the earth contains living fiends, who can act for themselves

without assistance, were the whole host that fell with Lucifer to return

to aid and abet them."

With these words, the import of which was suggested by my own situation,

I left Andrew's habitation, and returned to the Hall.

I made the few preparations which were necessary for my proposed journey,

examined and loaded my pistols, and then threw myself on my bed, to

obtain, if possible, a brief sleep before the fatigue of a long and

anxious journey. Nature, exhausted by the tumultuous agitations of the

day, was kinder to me than I expected, and I stink into a deep and

profound slumber, from which, however, I started as the old clock struck

two from a turret adjoining to my bedchamber. I instantly arose, struck a

light, wrote the letter I proposed to leave for my uncle, and leaving

behind me such articles of dress as were cumbrous in carriage, I

deposited the rest of my wardrobe in my valise, glided down stairs, and

gained the stable without impediment. Without being quite such a groom as

any of my cousins, I had learned at Osbaldistone Hall to dress and saddle

my own horse, and in a few minutes I was mounted and ready for my sally.

As I paced up the old avenue, on which the waning moon threw its light

with a pale and whitish tinge, I looked back with a deep and boding sigh

towards the walls which contained Diana Vernon, under the despondent

impression that we had probably parted to meet no more. It was

impossible, among the long and irregular lines of Gothic casements, which

now looked ghastly white in the moonlight, to distinguish that of the

apartment which she inhabited. "She is lost to me already," thought I, as

my eye wandered over the dim and indistinguishable intricacies of

architecture offered by the moonlight view of Osbaldistone Hall--"She is

lost to me already, ere I have left the place which she inhabits! What

hope is there of my maintaining any correspondence with her, when leagues

shall lie between?"

While I paused in a reverie of no very pleasing nature, the "iron tongue

of time told three upon the drowsy ear of night," and reminded me of the

necessity of keeping my appointment with a person of a less interesting

description and appearance--Andrew Fairservice.

At the gate of the avenue I found a horseman stationed in the shadow of

the wall, but it was not until I had coughed twice, and then called

"Andrew," that the horticulturist replied, "I'se warrant it's Andrew."

"Lead the way, then," said I, "and be silent if you can, till we are past

the hamlet in the valley."

Andrew led the way accordingly, and at a much brisker pace than I would

have recommended.--and so well did he obey my injunctions of keeping

silence, that he would return no answer to my repeated inquiries into the

cause of such unnecessary haste. Extricating ourselves by short cuts,

known to Andrew, from the numerous stony lanes and by-paths which

intersected each other in the vicinity of the Hall, we reached the open

heath and riding swiftly across it, took our course among the barren

hills which divide England from Scotland on what are called the Middle

Marches. The way, or rather the broken track which we occupied, was a

happy interchange of bog and shingles; nevertheless, Andrew relented

nothing of his speed, but trotted manfully forward at the rate of eight

or ten miles an hour. I was both surprised and provoked at the fellow's

obstinate persistence, for we made abrupt ascents and descents over

ground of a very break-neck character, and traversed the edge of

precipices, where a slip of the horse's feet would have consigned the

rider to certain death. The moon, at best, afforded a dubious and

imperfect light; but in some places we were so much under the shade of

the mountain as to be in total darkness, and then I could only trace

Andrew by the clatter of his horse's feet, and the fire which they struck

from the flints. At first, this rapid motion, and the attention which,

for the sake of personal safety, I was compelled to give to the conduct

of my horse, was of service, by forcibly diverting my thoughts from the

various painful reflections which must otherwise have pressed on my mind.

But at length, after hallooing repeatedly to Andrew to ride slower, I

became seriously incensed at his impudent perseverance in refusing either

to obey or to reply to me. My anger was, however, quite impotent. I

attempted once or twice to get up alongside of my self-willed guide, with

the purpose of knocking him off his horse with the butt-end of my whip;

but Andrew was better mounted than I, and either the spirit of the animal

which he bestrode, or more probably some presentiment of my kind

intentions towards him, induced him to quicken his pace whenever I

attempted to make up to him. On the other hand, I was compelled to exert

my spurs to keep him in sight, for without his guidance I was too well

aware that I should never find my way through the howling wilderness

which we now traversed at such an unwonted pace. I was so angry at

length, that I threatened to have recourse to my pistols, and send a

bullet after the Hotspur Andrew, which should stop his fiery-footed

career, if he did not abate it of his own accord. Apparently this threat

made some impression on the tympanum of his ear, however deaf to all my

milder entreaties; for he relaxed his pace upon hearing it, and,

suffering me to close up to him, observed, "There wasna muckle sense in

riding at sic a daft-like gate."

"And what did you mean by doing so at all, you self-willed scoundrel?"

replied I; for I was in a towering passion,--to which, by the way,

nothing contributes more than the having recently undergone a spice of

personal fear, which, like a few drops of water flung on a glowing fire,

is sure to inflame the ardour which it is insufficient to quench.

"What's your honour's wull?" replied Andrew, with impenetrable gravity.

"My will, you rascal?--I have been roaring to you this hour to ride

slower, and you have never so much as answered me--Are you drunk or mad

to behave so?"

"An it like your honour, I am something dull o' hearing; and I'll no deny

but I might have maybe taen a stirrup-cup at parting frae the auld

bigging whare I hae dwelt sae lang; and having naebody to pledge, nae

doubt I was obliged to do mysell reason, or else leave the end o' the

brandy stoup to thae papists--and that wad be a waste, as your honour

kens."

This might be all very true,--and my circumstances required that I should

be on good terms with my guide; I therefore satisfied myself with

requiring of him to take his directions from me in future concerning the

rate of travelling.

Andrew, emboldened by the mildness of my tone, elevated his own into the

pedantic, conceited octave, which was familiar to him on most occasions.

"Your honour winna persuade me, and naebody shall persuade me, that it's

either halesome or prudent to tak the night air on thae moors without a

cordial o' clow-gilliflower water, or a tass of brandy or aquavitae, or

sic-like creature-comfort. I hae taen the bent ower the Otterscrape-rigg

a hundred times, day and night, and never could find the way unless I had

taen my morning; mair by token that I had whiles twa bits o' ankers o'

brandy on ilk side o' me."--

"In other words, Andrew," said I, "you were a smuggler--how does a man of

your strict principles reconcile yourself to cheat the revenue?"

"It's a mere spoiling o' the Egyptians," replied Andrew; "puir auld

Scotland suffers eneugh by thae blackguard loons o' excisemen and

gaugers, that hae come down on her like locusts since the sad and

sorrowfu' Union; it's the part of a kind son to bring her a soup o'

something that will keep up her auld heart,--and that will they nill

they, the ill-fa'ard thieves!"

Upon more particular inquiry, I found Andrew had frequently travelled

these mountain-paths as a smuggler, both before and after his

establishment at Osbaldistone Hall--a circumstance which was so far of

importance to me, as it proved his capacity as a guide, notwithstanding

the escapade of which he had been guilty at his outset, Even now, though

travelling at a more moderate pace, the stirrup-cup, or whatever else had

such an effect in stimulating Andrew's motions, seemed not totally to

have lost its influence. He often cast a nervous and startled look behind

him; and whenever the road seemed at all practicable, showed symptoms of

a desire to accelerate his pace, as if he feared some pursuit from the

rear. These appearances of alarm gradually diminished as we reached the

top of a high bleak ridge, which ran nearly east and west for about a

mile, with a very steep descent on either side. The pale beams of the

morning were now enlightening the horizon, when Andrew cast a look behind

him, and not seeing the appearance of a living being on the moors which

he had travelled, his hard features gradually unbent, as he first

whistled, then sung, with much glee and little melody, the end of one of

his native songs--

"Jenny, lass! I think I hae her

Ower the muir amang the heather,

All their clan shall never get her."

He patted at the same time the neck of the horse which had carried him so

gallantly; and my attention being directed by that action to the animal,

I instantly recognised a favourite mare of Thorncliff Osbaldistone. "How

is this, sir?" said I sternly; "that is Mr. Thorncliff's mare!"

"I'll no say but she may aiblins hae been his honour's Squire

Thorncliff's in her day--but she's mine now."

"You have stolen her, you rascal."

"Na, na, sir--nae man can wyte me wi' theft. The thing stands this gate,

ye see. Squire Thorncliff borrowed ten punds o' me to gang to York

Races--deil a boddle wad he pay me back again, and spake o' raddling my

banes, as he ca'd it, when I asked him but for my ain back again;--now I

think it will riddle him or he gets his horse ower the Border

again--unless he pays me plack and bawbee, he sall never see a hair o'

her tail. I ken a canny chield at Loughmaben, a bit writer lad, that

will put me in the way to sort him. Steal the mear! na, na, far be the

sin o' theft frae Andrew Fairservice--I have just arrested her

_jurisdictionis fandandy causey._ Thae are bonny writer words--amaist

like the language o' huz gardeners and other learned men--it's a pity

they're sae dear;--thae three words were a' that Andrew got for a lang

law-plea and four ankers o' as gude brandy as was e'er coupit ower

craig--Hech, sirs! but law's a dear thing."

"You are likely to find it much dearer than you suppose, Andrew, if you

proceed in this mode of paying yourself, without legal authority."

"Hout tout, we're in Scotland now (be praised for't!) and I can find

baith friends and lawyers, and judges too, as weel as ony Osbaldistone o'

them a'. My mither's mither's third cousin was cousin to the Provost o'

Dumfries, and he winna see a drap o' her blude wranged. Hout awa! the

laws are indifferently administered here to a' men alike; it's no like on

yon side, when a chield may be whuppit awa' wi' ane o' Clerk Jobson's

warrants, afore he kens where he is. But they will hae little enough law

amang them by and by, and that is ae grand reason that I hae gi'en them

gude-day."

I was highly provoked at the achievement of Andrew, and considered it as

a hard fate, which a second time threw me into collision with a person of

such irregular practices. I determined, however, to buy the mare of him,

when he should reach the end of our journey, and send her back to my

cousin at Osbaldistone Hall; and with this purpose of reparation I

resolved to make my uncle acquainted from the next post-town. It was

needless, I thought, to quarrel with Andrew in the meantime, who had,

after all, acted not very unnaturally for a person in his circumstances.

I therefore smothered my resentment, and asked him what he meant by his

last expressions, that there would be little law in Northumberland by and

by?

"Law!" said Andrew, "hout, ay--there will be club-law eneugh. The priests

and the Irish officers, and thae papist cattle that hae been sodgering

abroad, because they durstna bide at hame, are a' fleeing thick in

Northumberland e'enow; and thae corbies dinna gather without they smell

carrion. As sure as ye live, his honour Sir Hildebrand is gaun to stick

his horn in the bog--there's naething but gun and pistol, sword and

dagger, amang them--and they'll be laying on, I'se warrant; for they're

fearless fules the young Osbaldistone squires, aye craving your honour's

pardon."

This speech recalled to my memory some suspicions that I myself had

entertained, that the Jacobites were on the eve of some desperate

enterprise. But, conscious it did not become me to be a spy on my uncle's

words and actions, I had rather avoided than availed myself of any

opportunity which occurred of remarking upon the signs of the times.--

Andrew Fairservice felt no such restraint, and doubtless spoke very truly

in stating his conviction that some desperate plots were in agitation, as

a reason which determined his resolution to leave the Hall.

"The servants," he stated, "with the tenantry and others, had been all

regularly enrolled and mustered, and they wanted me to take arms also.

But I'll ride in nae siccan troop--they little ken'd Andrew that asked

him. I'll fight when I like mysell, but it sall neither be for the hure

o' Babylon, nor any hure in England."

CHAPTER SECOND.

Where longs to fall yon rifted spire,

As weary of the insulting air,--

The poet's thoughts, the warrior's fire,

The lover's sighs, are sleeping there.

Langhorne.

At the first Scotch town which we reached, my guide sought out his friend

and counsellor, to consult upon the proper and legal means of converting

into his own lawful property the "bonny creature," which was at present

his own only by one of those sleight-of-hand arrangements which still

sometimes took place in that once lawless district. I was somewhat

diverted with the dejection of his looks on his return. He had, it seems,

been rather too communicative to his confidential friend, the attorney;

and learned with great dismay, in return for his unsuspecting frankness,

that Mr. Touthope had, during his absence, been appointed clerk to the

peace of the county, and was bound to communicate to justice all such

achievements as that of his friend Mr. Andrew Fairservice. There was a

necessity, this alert member of the police stated, for arresting the

horse, and placing him in Bailie Trumbull's stable, therein to remain at

livery, at the rate of twelve shillings (Scotch) per diem, until the

question of property was duly tried and debated. He even talked as if, in

strict and rigorous execution of his duty, he ought to detain honest

Andrew himself; but on my guide's most piteously entreating his

forbearance, he not only desisted from this proposal, but made a present

to Andrew of a broken-winded and spavined pony, in order to enable him to

pursue his journey. It is true, he qualified this act of generosity by

exacting from poor Andrew an absolute cession of his right and interest

in the gallant palfrey of Thorncliff Osbaldistone--a transference which

Mr. Touthope represented as of very little consequence, since his

unfortunate friend, as he facetiously observed, was likely to get nothing

of the mare excepting the halter.

Andrew seemed woeful and disconcerted, as I screwed out of him these

particulars; for his northern pride was cruelly pinched by being

compelled to admit that attorneys were attorneys on both sides of the

Tweed; and that Mr. Clerk Touthope was not a farthing more sterling coin

than Mr. Clerk Jobson.

"It wadna hae vexed him half sae muckle to hae been cheated out o' what

might amaist be said to be won with the peril o' his craig, had it

happened amang the Inglishers; but it was an unco thing to see hawks pike

out hawks' e'en, or ae kindly Scot cheat anither. But nae doubt things

were strangely changed in his country sin' the sad and sorrowfu' Union;"

an event to which Andrew referred every symptom of depravity or

degeneracy which he remarked among his countrymen, more especially the

inflammation of reckonings, the diminished size of pint-stoups, and other

grievances, which he pointed out to me during our journey.

For my own part, I held myself, as things had turned out, acquitted of

all charge of the mare, and wrote to my uncle the circumstances under

which she was carried into Scotland, concluding with informing him that

she was in the hands of justice, and her worthy representatives, Bailie

Trumbull and Mr. Clerk Touthope, to whom I referred him for farther

particulars. Whether the property returned to the Northumbrian

fox-hunter, or continued to bear the person of the Scottish attorney, it

is unnecessary for me at present to say.

We now pursued our journey to the north-westward, at a rate much slower

than that at which we had achieved our nocturnal retreat from England.

One chain of barren and uninteresting hills succeeded another, until the

more fertile vale of Clyde opened upon us; and, with such despatch as we

might, we gained the town, or, as my guide pertinaciously termed it, the

city, of Glasgow. Of late years, I understand, it has fully deserved the

name, which, by a sort of political second sight, my guide assigned to

it. An extensive and increasing trade with the West Indies and American

colonies, has, if I am rightly informed, laid the foundation of wealth

and prosperity, which, if carefully strengthened and built upon, may one

day support an immense fabric of commercial prosperity; but in the

earlier time of which I speak, the dawn of this splendour had not arisen.

The Union had, indeed, opened to Scotland the trade of the English

colonies; but, betwixt want of capital, and the national jealousy of the

English, the merchants of Scotland were as yet excluded, in a great

measure, from the exercise of the privileges which that memorable treaty

conferred on them. Glasgow lay on the wrong side of the island for

participating in the east country or continental trade, by which the

trifling commerce as yet possessed by Scotland chiefly supported itself.

Yet, though she then gave small promise of the commercial eminence to

which, I am informed, she seems now likely one day to attain, Glasgow, as

the principal central town of the western district of Scotland, was a

place of considerable rank and importance. The broad and brimming Clyde,

which flows so near its walls, gave the means of an inland navigation of

some importance. Not only the fertile plains in its immediate

neighbourhood, but the districts of Ayr and Dumfries regarded Glasgow as

their capital, to which they transmitted their produce, and received in

return such necessaries and luxuries as their consumption required.

The dusky mountains of the western Highlands often sent forth wilder

tribes to frequent the marts of St. Mungo's favourite city. Hordes of

wild shaggy, dwarfish cattle and ponies, conducted by Highlanders, as

wild, as shaggy, and sometimes as dwarfish, as the animals they had in

charge, often traversed the streets of Glasgow. Strangers gazed with

surprise on the antique and fantastic dress, and listened to the unknown

and dissonant sounds of their language, while the mountaineers, armed,

even while engaged in this peaceful occupation, with musket and pistol,

sword, dagger, and target, stared with astonishment on the articles of

luxury of which they knew not the use, and with an avidity which seemed

somewhat alarming on the articles which they knew and valued. It is

always with unwillingness that the Highlander quits his deserts, and at

this early period it was like tearing a pine from its rock, to plant him

elsewhere. Yet even then the mountain glens were over-peopled, although

thinned occasionally by famine or by the sword, and many of their

inhabitants strayed down to Glasgow--there formed settlements--there

sought and found employment, although different, indeed, from that of

their native hills. This supply of a hardy and useful population was of

consequence to the prosperity of the place, furnished the means of

carrying on the few manufactures which the town already boasted, and laid

the foundation of its future prosperity.

The exterior of the city corresponded with these promising circumstances.

The principal street was broad and important, decorated with public

buildings, of an architecture rather striking than correct in point of

taste, and running between rows of tall houses, built of stone, the

fronts of which were occasionally richly ornamented with mason-work--a

circumstance which gave the street an imposing air of dignity and

grandeur, of which most English towns are in some measure deprived, by

the slight, insubstantial, and perishable quality and appearance of the

bricks with which they are constructed.

In the western metropolis of Scotland, my guide and I arrived on a

Saturday evening, too late to entertain thoughts of business of any kind.

We alighted at the door of a jolly hostler-wife, as Andrew called

her,--the Ostelere of old father Chaucer,--by whom we were civilly

received.

On the following morning the bells pealed from every steeple, announcing

the sanctity of the day. Notwithstanding, however, what I had heard of

the severity with which the Sabbath is observed in Scotland, my first

impulse, not unnaturally, was to seek out Owen; but on inquiry I found

that my attempt would be in vain, "until kirk time was ower." Not only

did my landlady and guide jointly assure me that "there wadna be a living

soul either in the counting-house or dwelling-house of Messrs. MacVittie,

MacFin, and Company," to which Owen's letter referred me, but, moreover,

"far less would I find any of the partners there. They were serious men,

and wad be where a' gude Christians ought to be at sic a time, and that

was in the Barony Laigh Kirk."*

* [The Laigh Kirk or Crypt of the Cathedral of Glasgow served for more *

than two centuries as the church of the Barony Parish, and, for a time,

was * converted into a burial-place. In the restorations of this grand

building * the crypt was cleared out, and is now admired as one of the

richest specimens * of Early English architecture existing in Scotland.]

Andrew Fairservice, whose disgust at the law of his country had

fortunately not extended itself to the other learned professions of his

native land, now sung forth the praises of the preacher who was to

perform the duty, to which my hostess replied with many loud amens. The

result was, that I determined to go to this popular place of worship, as

much with the purpose of learning, if possible, whether Owen had arrived

in Glasgow, as with any great expectation of edification. My hopes were

exalted by the assurance, that if Mr. Ephraim MacVittie (worthy man) were

in the land of life, he would surely honour the Barony Kirk that day with

his presence; and if he chanced to have a stranger within his gates,

doubtless he would bring him to the duty along with him. This probability

determined my motions, and under the escort of my faithful Andrew, I set

forth for the Barony Kirk.

On this occasion, however, I had little need of his guidance; for the

crowd, which forced its way up a steep and rough-paved street, to hear

the most popular preacher in the west of Scotland, would of itself have

swept me along with it. On attaining the summit of the hill, we turned to

the left, and a large pair of folding doors admitted us, amongst others,

into the open and extensive burying-place which surrounds the Minster or

Cathedral Church of Glasgow. The pile is of a gloomy and massive, rather

than of an elegant, style of Gothic architecture; but its peculiar

character is so strongly preserved, and so well suited with the

accompaniments that surround it, that the impression of the first view

was awful and solemn in the extreme. I was indeed so much struck, that I

resisted for a few minutes all Andrew's efforts to drag me into the

interior of the building, so deeply was I engaged in surveying its

outward character.

Situated in a populous and considerable town, this ancient and massive

pile has the appearance of the most sequestered solitude. High walls

divide it from the buildings of the city on one side; on the other it is

bounded by a ravine, at the bottom of which, and invisible to the eye,

murmurs a wandering rivulet, adding, by its gentle noise, to the imposing

solemnity of the scene. On the opposite side of the ravine rises a steep

bank, covered with fir-trees closely planted, whose dusky shade extends

itself over the cemetery with an appropriate and gloomy effect. The

churchyard itself had a peculiar character; for though in reality

extensive, it is small in proportion to the number of respectable

inhabitants who are interred within it, and whose graves are almost all

covered with tombstones. There is therefore no room for the long rank

grass, which, in most cases, partially clothes the surface of those

retreats where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at

rest. The broad flat monumental stones are placed so close to each other,

that the precincts appear to be flagged with them, and, though roofed

only by the heavens, resemble the floor of one of our old English

churches, where the pavement is covered with sepulchral inscriptions. The

contents of these sad records of mortality, the vain sorrows which they

preserve, the stern lesson which they teach of the nothingness of

humanity, the extent of ground which they so closely cover, and their

uniform and melancholy tenor, reminded me of the roll of the prophet,

which was "written within and without, and there was written therein

lamentations and mourning and woe."

The Cathedral itself corresponds in impressive majesty with these

accompaniments. We feel that its appearance is heavy, yet that the effect

produced would be destroyed were it lighter or more ornamental. It is the

only metropolitan church in Scotland, excepting, as I am informed, the

Cathedral of Kirkwall, in the Orkneys, which remained uninjured at the

Reformation; and Andrew Fairservice, who saw with great pride the effect

which it produced upon my mind, thus accounted for its preservation--"Ah!

it's a brave kirk--nane o' yere whig-maleeries and curliewurlies and

opensteek hems about it--a' solid, weel-jointed mason-wark, that will

stand as lang as the warld, keep hands and gunpowther aff it. It had

amaist a douncome lang syne at the Reformation, when they pu'd doun the

kirks of St. Andrews and Perth, and thereawa', to cleanse them o' Papery,

and idolatry, and image worship, and surplices, and sic like rags o' the

muckle hure that sitteth on seven hills, as if ane wasna braid eneugh for

her auld hinder end. Sae the commons o' Renfrew, and o' the Barony, and

the Gorbals and a' about, they behoved to come into Glasgow no fair

morning, to try their hand on purging the High Kirk o' Popish

nick-nackets. But the townsmen o' Glasgow, they were feared their auld

edifice might slip the girths in gaun through siccan rough physic, sae

they rang the common bell, and assembled the train-bands wi' took o'

drum. By good luck, the worthy James Rabat was Dean o' Guild that

year--(and a gude mason he was himself, made him the keener to keep up

the auld bigging)--and the trades assembled, and offered downright

battle to the commons, rather than their kirk should coup the crans as

others had done elsewhere. It wasna for luve o' Paperie--na, na!--nane

could ever say that o' the trades o' Glasgow--Sae they sune came to an

agreement to take a' the idolatrous statues of sants (sorrow be on them)

out o' their neuks--and sae the bits o' stane idols were broken in

pieces by Scripture warrant, and flung into the Molendinar burn, and the

auld kirk stood as crouse as a cat when the flaes are kaimed aff her,

and a' body was alike pleased. And I hae heard wise folk say, that if

the same had been done in ilka kirk in Scotland, the Reform wad just hae

been as pure as it is e'en now, and we wad hae mair Christian-like

kirks; for I hae been sae lang in England, that naething will drived out

o' my head, that the dog-kennel at Osbaldistone Hall is better than mony

a house o' God in Scotland."

Thus saying, Andrew led the way into the place of worship.

CHAPTER THIRD.

--It strikes an awe

And terror on my aching sight; the tombs

And monumental caves of death look cold,

And shoot a chillness to the trembling heart.

Mourning Bride.

Notwithstanding the impatience of my conductor, I could not forbear to

pause and gaze for some minutes on the exterior of the building, rendered

more impressively dignified by the solitude which ensued when its

hitherto open gates were closed, after having, as it were, devoured the

multitude which had lately crowded the churchyard, but now, enclosed

within the building, were engaged, as the choral swell of voices from

within announced to us, in the solemn exercises of devotion. The sound of

so many voices united by the distance into one harmony, and freed from

those harsh discordances which jar the ear when heard more near,

combining with the murmuring brook, and the wind which sung among the old

firs, affected me with a sense of sublimity. All nature, as invoked by

the Psalmist whose verses they chanted, seemed united in offering that

solemn praise in which trembling is mixed with joy as she addressed her

Maker. I had heard the service of high mass in France, celebrated with

all the _e'clat_ which the choicest music, the richest dresses, the most

imposing ceremonies, could confer on it; yet it fell short in effect of

the simplicity of the Presbyterian worship. The devotion in which every

one took a share seemed so superior to that which was recited by

musicians as a lesson which they had learned by rote, that it gave the

Scottish worship all the advantage of reality over acting.

As I lingered to catch more of the solemn sound, Andrew, whose impatience

became ungovernable, pulled me by the sleeve--"Come awa', sir--come awa';

we maunna be late o' gaun in to disturb the worship; if we bide here the

searchers will be on us, and carry us to the guard-house for being idlers

in kirk-time."

Thus admonished, I followed my guide, but not, as I had supposed, into

the body of the cathedral. "This gate--this gate, sir," he exclaimed,

dragging me off as I made towards the main entrance of the

building--"There's but cauldrife law-work gaun on yonder--carnal

morality, as dow'd and as fusionless as rue leaves at Yule--Here's the

real savour of doctrine."

So saying, we entered a small low-arched door, secured by a wicket, which

a grave-looking person seemed on the point of closing, and descended

several steps as if into the funeral vaults beneath the church. It was

even so; for in these subterranean precincts,--why chosen for such a

purpose I knew not,--was established a very singular place of worship.

Conceive, Tresham, an extensive range of low-browed, dark, and twilight

vaults, such as are used for sepulchres in other countries, and had long

been dedicated to the same purpose in this, a portion of which was seated

with pews, and used as a church. The part of the vaults thus occupied,

though capable of containing a congregation of many hundreds, bore a

small proportion to the darker and more extensive caverns which yawned

around what may be termed the inhabited space. In those waste regions of

oblivion, dusky banners and tattered escutcheons indicated the graves of

those who were once, doubtless, "princes in Israel." Inscriptions, which

could only be read by the painful antiquary, in language as obsolete as

the act of devotional charity which they employed, invited the passengers

to pray for the souls of those whose bodies rested beneath. Surrounded by

these receptacles of the last remains of mortality, I found a numerous

congregation engaged in the act of prayer. The Scotch perform this duty

in a standing instead of a kneeling posture--more, perhaps, to take as

broad a distinction as possible from the ritual of Rome than for any

better reason; since I have observed, that in their family worship, as

doubtless in their private devotions, they adopt, in their immediate

address to the Deity, that posture which other Christians use as the

humblest and most reverential. Standing, therefore, the men being

uncovered, a crowd of several hundreds of both sexes, and all ages,

listened with great reverence and attention to the extempore, at least

the unwritten, prayer of an aged clergyman,* who was very popular in the

city.

* I have in vain laboured to discover this gentleman's name, and the

period of his incumbency. I do not, however, despair to see these points,

with some others which may elude my sagacity, satisfactorily elucidated

by one or other of the periodical publications which have devoted their

pages to explanatory commentaries on my former volumes; and whose

research and ingenuity claim my peculiar gratitude, for having discovered

many persons and circumstances connected with my narratives, of which I

myself never so much as dreamed.

Educated in the same religious persuasion, I seriously bent my mind to

join in the devotion of the day; and it was not till the congregation

resumed their seats, that my attention was diverted to the consideration

of the appearance of all around me.

At the conclusion of the prayer, most of the men put on their hats or

bonnets, and all who had the happiness to have seats sate down. Andrew

and I were not of this number, having been too late of entering the

church to secure such accommodation. We stood among a number of other

persons in the same situation, forming a sort of ring around the seated

part of the congregation. Behind and around us were the vaults I have

already described; before us the devout audience, dimly shown by the

light which streamed on their faces through one or two low Gothic

windows, such as give air and light to charnel-houses. By this were seen

the usual variety of countenances which are generally turned towards a

Scotch pastor on such occasions, almost all composed to attention, unless

where a father or mother here and there recalls the wandering eyes of a

lively child, or disturbs the slumbers of a dull one. The high-boned and

harsh countenance of the nation, with the expression of intelligence and

shrewdness which it frequently exhibits, is seen to more advantage in the

act of devotion, or in the ranks of war, than on lighter and more

cheerful occasions of assemblage. The discourse of the preacher was well

qualified to call forth the various feelings and faculties of his

audience.

Age and infirmities had impaired the powers of a voice originally strong

and sonorous. He read his text with a pronunciation somewhat

inarticulate; but when he closed the Bible, and commenced his sermon, his

tones gradually strengthened, as he entered with vehemence into the

arguments which he maintained. They related chiefly to the abstract

points of the Christian faith,--subjects grave, deep, and fathomless by

mere human reason, but for which, with equal ingenuity and propriety, he

sought a key in liberal quotations from the inspired writings. My mind

was unprepared to coincide in all his reasoning, nor was I sure that in

some instances I rightly comprehended his positions. But nothing could be

more impressive than the eager enthusiastic manner of the good old man,

and nothing more ingenious than his mode of reasoning. The Scotch, it is

well known, are more remarkable for the exercise of their intellectual

powers, than for the keenness of their feelings; they are, therefore,

more moved by logic than by rhetoric, and more attracted by acute and

argumentative reasoning on doctrinal points, than influenced by the

enthusiastic appeals to the heart and to the passions, by which popular

preachers in other countries win the favour of their hearers.

Among the attentive group which I now saw, might be distinguished various

expressions similar to those of the audience in the famous cartoon of

Paul preaching at Athens. Here sat a zealous and intelligent Calvinist,

with brows bent just as much as to indicate profound attention; lips

slightly compressed; eyes fixed on the minister with an expression of

decent pride, as if sharing the triumph of his argument; the forefinger

of the right hand touching successively those of the left, as the

preacher, from argument to argument, ascended towards his conclusion.

Another, with fiercer and sterner look, intimated at once his contempt of

all who doubted the creed of his pastor, and his joy at the appropriate

punishment denounced against them. A third, perhaps belonging to a

different congregation, and present only by accident or curiosity, had

the appearance of internally impeaching some link of the reasoning; and

you might plainly read, in the slight motion of his head, his doubts as

to the soundness of the preacher's argument. The greater part listened

with a calm, satisfied countenance, expressive of a conscious merit in

being present, and in listening to such an ingenious discourse, although

perhaps unable entirely to comprehend it. The women in general belonged

to this last division of the audience; the old, however, seeming more

grimly intent upon the abstract doctrines laid before them; while the

younger females permitted their eyes occasionally to make a modest

circuit around the congregation; and some of them, Tresham (if my vanity

did not greatly deceive me), contrived to distinguish your friend and

servant, as a handsome young stranger and an Englishman. As to the rest

of the congregation, the stupid gaped, yawned, or slept, till awakened by

the application of their more zealous neighbours' heels to their shins;

and the idle indicated their inattention by the wandering of their eyes,

but dared give no more decided token of weariness. Amid the Lowland

costume of coat and cloak, I could here and there discern a Highland

plaid, the wearer of which, resting on his basket-hilt, sent his eyes

among the audience with the unrestrained curiosity of savage wonder; and

who, in all probability, was inattentive to the sermon for a very

pardonable reason--because he did not understand the language in which it

was delivered. The martial and wild look, however, of these stragglers,

added a kind of character which the congregation could not have exhibited

without them. They were more numerous, Andrew afterwards observed, owing

to some cattle-fair in the neighbourhood.

Such was the group of countenances, rising tier on tier, discovered to my

critical inspection by such sunbeams as forced their way through the

narrow Gothic lattices of the Laigh Kirk of Glasgow; and, having

illuminated the attentive congregation, lost themselves in the vacuity of

the vaults behind, giving to the nearer part of their labyrinth a sort of

imperfect twilight, and leaving their recesses in an utter darkness,

which gave them the appearance of being interminable.

I have already said that I stood with others in the exterior circle, with

my face to the preacher, and my back to those vaults which I have so

often mentioned. My position rendered me particularly obnoxious to any

interruption which arose from any slight noise occurring amongst these

retiring arches, where the least sound was multiplied by a thousand

echoes. The occasional sound of rain-drops, which, admitted through some

cranny in the ruined roof, fell successively, and splashed upon the

pavement beneath, caused me to turn my head more than once to the place

from whence it seemed to proceed, and when my eyes took that direction, I

found it difficult to withdraw them; such is the pleasure our imagination

receives from the attempt to penetrate as far as possible into an

intricate labyrinth, imperfectly lighted, and exhibiting objects which

irritate our curiosity, only because they acquire a mysterious interest

from being undefined and dubious. My eyes became habituated to the gloomy

atmosphere to which I directed them, and insensibly my mind became more

interested in their discoveries than in the metaphysical subtleties which

the preacher was enforcing.

My father had often checked me for this wandering mood of mind, arising

perhaps from an excitability of imagination to which he was a stranger;

and the finding myself at present solicited by these temptations to

inattention, recalled the time when I used to walk, led by his hand, to

Mr. Shower's chapel, and the earnest injunctions which he then laid on me

to redeem the time, because the days were evil. At present, the picture

which my thoughts suggested, far from fixing my attention, destroyed the

portion I had yet left, by conjuring up to my recollection the peril in

which his affairs now stood. I endeavoured, in the lowest whisper I could

frame, to request Andrew to obtain information, whether any of the

gentlemen of the firm of MacVittie & Co. were at present in the

congregation. But Andrew, wrapped in profound attention to the sermon,

only replied to my suggestion by hard punches with his elbow, as signals

to me to remain silent. I next strained my eyes, with equally bad

success, to see if, among the sea of up-turned faces which bent their

eyes on the pulpit as a common centre, I could discover the sober and

business-like physiognomy of Owen. But not among the broad beavers of the

Glasgow citizens, or the yet broader brimmed Lowland bonnets of the

peasants of Lanarkshire, could I see anything resembling the decent

periwig, starched ruffles, or the uniform suit of light-brown garments

appertaining to the head-clerk of the establishment of Osbaldistone and

Tresham. My anxiety now returned on me with such violence as to overpower

not only the novelty of the scene around me, by which it had hitherto

been diverted, but moreover my sense of decorum. I pulled Andrew hard by

the sleeve, and intimated my wish to leave the church, and pursue my

investigation as I could. Andrew, obdurate in the Laigh Kirk of Glasgow

as on the mountains of Cheviot, for some time deigned me no answer; and

it was only when he found I could not otherwise be kept quiet, that he

condescended to inform me, that, being once in the church, we could not

leave it till service was over, because the doors were locked so soon as

the prayers began. Having thus spoken in a brief and peevish whisper,

Andrew again assumed the air of intelligent and critical importance, and

attention to the preacher's discourse.

While I endeavoured to make a virtue of necessity, and recall my

attention to the sermon, I was again disturbed by a singular

interruption. A voice from behind whispered distinctly in my ear, "You

are in danger in this city."--I turned round, as if mechanically.

One or two starched and ordinary-looking mechanics stood beside and

behind me,--stragglers, who, like ourselves, had been too late in

obtaining entrance. But a glance at their faces satisfied me, though I

could hardly say why, that none of these was the person who had spoken to

me. Their countenances seemed all composed to attention to the sermon,

and not one of them returned any glance of intelligence to the

inquisitive and startled look with which I surveyed them. A massive round

pillar, which was close behind us, might have concealed the speaker the

instant he uttered his mysterious caution; but wherefore it was given in

such a place, or to what species of danger it directed my attention, or

by whom the warning was uttered, were points on which my imagination lost

itself in conjecture. It would, however, I concluded, be repeated, and I

resolved to keep my countenance turned towards the clergyman, that the

whisperer might be tempted to renew his communication under the idea that

the first had passed unobserved.

My plan succeeded. I had not resumed the appearance of attention to the

preacher for five minutes, when the same voice whispered, "Listen, but do

not look back." I kept my face in the same direction. "You are in danger

in this place," the voice proceeded; "so am I--meet me to-night on the

Brigg, at twelve preceesely--keep at home till the gloaming, and avoid

observation."

Here the voice ceased, and I instantly turned my head. But the speaker

had, with still greater promptitude, glided behind the pillar, and

escaped my observation. I was determined to catch a sight of him, if

possible, and extricating myself from the outer circle of hearers, I also

stepped behind the column. All there was empty; and I could only see a

figure wrapped in a mantle, whether a Lowland cloak, or Highland plaid, I

could not distinguish, which traversed, like a phantom, the dreary

vacuity of vaults which I have described.

I made a mechanical attempt to pursue the mysterious form, which glided

away and vanished in the vaulted cemetery, like the spectre of one of the

numerous dead who rested within its precincts. I had little chance of

arresting the course of one obviously determined not to be spoken with;

but that little chance was lost by my stumbling and falling before I had

made three steps from the column. The obscurity which occasioned my

misfortune, covered my disgrace; which I accounted rather lucky, for the

preacher, with that stern authority which the Scottish ministers assume

for the purpose of keeping order in their congregations, interrupted his

discourse, to desire the "proper officer" to take into custody the causer

of this disturbance in the place of worship. As the noise, however, was

not repeated, the beadle, or whatever else he was called, did not think

it necessary to be rigorous in searching out the offender, so that I was

enabled, without attracting farther observation, to place myself by

Andrew's side in my original position. The service proceeded, and closed

without the occurrence of anything else worthy of notice.

As the congregation departed and dispersed, my friend Andrew exclaimed,

"See, yonder is worthy Mr. MacVittie, and Mrs. MacVittie, and Miss Alison

MacVittie, and Mr. Thamas MacFin, that they say is to marry Miss Alison,

if a' bowls row right--she'll hae a hantle siller, if she's no that

bonny."

My eyes took the direction he pointed out. Mr. MacVittie was a tall,

thin, elderly man, with hard features, thick grey eyebrows, light eyes,

and, as I imagined, a sinister expression of countenance, from which my

heart recoiled. I remembered the warning I had received in the church,

and hesitated to address this person, though I could not allege to myself

any rational ground of dislike or suspicion.

I was yet in suspense, when Andrew, who mistook my hesitation for

bashfulness, proceeded to exhort me to lay it aside. "Speak till

him--speak till him, Mr. Francis--he's no provost yet, though they say

he'll be my lord neist year. Speak till him, then--he'll gie ye a decent

answer for as rich as he is, unless ye were wanting siller frae

him--they say he's dour to draw his purse."

It immediately occurred to me, that if this merchant were really of the

churlish and avaricious disposition which Andrew intimated, there might

be some caution necessary in making myself known, as I could not tell how

accounts might stand between my father and him. This consideration came

in aid of the mysterious hint which I had received, and the dislike which

I had conceived at the man's countenance. Instead of addressing myself

directly to him, as I had designed to have done, I contented myself with

desiring Andrew to inquire at Mr. MacVittie's house the address of Mr.

Owen, an English gentleman; and I charged him not to mention the person

from whom he received the commission, but to bring me the result to the

small inn where we lodged. This Andrew promised to do. He said something

of the duty of my attending the evening service; but added with a

causticity natural to him, that "in troth, if folk couldna keep their

legs still, but wad needs be couping the creels ower through-stanes, as

if they wad raise the very dead folk wi' the clatter, a kirk wi' a

chimley in't was fittest for them."

CHAPTER FOURTH.

On the Rialto, every night at twelve,

I take my evening's walk of meditation:

There we two will meet.

Venice Preserved.

Full of sinister augury, for which, however, I could assign no

satisfactory cause, I shut myself up in my apartment at the inn, and

having dismissed Andrew, after resisting his importunity to accompany him

to St. Enoch's Kirk,* where, he said, "a soul-searching divine was to haud

forth," I set myself seriously to consider what were best to be done.

* This I believe to be an anachronism, as Saint Enoch's Church was not

built at the date of the story. [It was founded in 1780, and has since

been rebuilt.]

I never was what is properly called superstitious; but I suppose that all

men, in situations of peculiar doubt and difficulty, when they have

exercised their reason to little purpose, are apt, in a sort of despair,

to abandon the reins to their imagination, and be guided altogether by

chance, or by those whimsical impressions which take possession of the

mind, and to which we give way as if to involuntary impulses. There was

something so singularly repulsive in the hard features of the Scotch

trader, that I could not resolve to put myself into his hands without

transgressing every caution which could be derived from the rules of

physiognomy; while, at the same time, the warning voice, the form which

flitted away like a vanishing shadow through those vaults, which might be

termed "the valley of the shadow of death," had something captivating for

the imagination of a young man, who, you will farther please to remember,

was also a young poet.

If danger was around me, as the mysterious communication intimated, how

could I learn its nature, or the means of averting it, but by meeting my

unknown counsellor, to whom I could see no reason for imputing any other

than kind intentions. Rashleigh and his machinations occurred more than

once to my remembrance;--but so rapid had my journey been, that I could

not suppose him apprised of my arrival in Glasgow, much less prepared to

play off any stratagem against my person. In my temper also I was bold

and confident, strong and active in person, and in some measure

accustomed to the use of arms, in which the French youth of all kinds

were then initiated. I did not fear any single opponent; assassination

was neither the vice of the age nor of the country; the place selected

for our meeting was too public to admit any suspicion of meditated

violence. In a word, I resolved to meet my mysterious counsellor on the

bridge, as he had requested, and to be afterwards guided by

circumstances. Let me not conceal from you, Tresham, what at the time I

endeavoured to conceal from myself--the subdued, yet secretly-cherished

hope, that Diana Vernon might--by what chance I knew not--through what

means I could not guess--have some connection with this strange and

dubious intimation conveyed at a time and place, and in a manner so

surprising. She alone--whispered this insidious thought--she alone knew

of my journey; from her own account, she possessed friends and influence

in Scotland; she had furnished me with a talisman, whose power I was to

invoke when all other aid failed me; who then but Diana Vernon possessed

either means, knowledge, or inclination, for averting the dangers, by

which, as it seemed, my steps were surrounded? This flattering view of my

very doubtful case pressed itself upon me again and again. It insinuated

itself into my thoughts, though very bashfully, before the hour of

dinner; it displayed its attractions more boldly during the course of my

frugal meal, and became so courageously intrusive during the succeeding

half-hour (aided perhaps by the flavour of a few glasses of most

excellent claret), that, with a sort of desperate attempt to escape from

a delusive seduction, to which I felt the danger of yielding, I pushed my

glass from me, threw aside my dinner, seized my hat, and rushed into the

open air with the feeling of one who would fly from his own thoughts. Yet

perhaps I yielded to the very feelings from which I seemed to fly, since

my steps insensibly led me to the bridge over the Clyde, the place

assigned for the rendezvous by my mysterious monitor.

Although I had not partaken of my repast until the hours of evening

church-service were over,--in which, by the way, I complied with the

religious scruples of my landlady, who hesitated to dress a hot dinner

between sermons, and also with the admonition of my unknown friend, to

keep my apartment till twilight,--several hours had still to pass away

betwixt the time of my appointment and that at which I reached the

assigned place of meeting. The interval, as you will readily credit, was

wearisome enough; and I can hardly explain to you how it passed away.

Various groups of persons, all of whom, young and old, seemed impressed

with a reverential feeling of the sanctity of the day, passed along the

large open meadow which lies on the northern bank of the Clyde, and

serves at once as a bleaching-field and pleasure-walk for the

inhabitants, or paced with slow steps the long bridge which communicates

with the southern district of the county. All that I remember of them was

the general, yet not unpleasing, intimation of a devotional character

impressed on each little party--formally assumed perhaps by some, but

sincerely characterising the greater number--which hushed the petulant

gaiety of the young into a tone of more quiet, yet more interesting,

interchange of sentiments, and suppressed the vehement argument and

protracted disputes of those of more advanced age. Notwithstanding the

numbers who passed me, no general sound of the human voice was heard; few

turned again to take some minutes' voluntary exercise, to which the

leisure of the evening, and the beauty of the surrounding scenery, seemed

to invite them: all hurried to their homes and resting-places. To one

accustomed to the mode of spending Sunday evenings abroad, even among the

French Calvinists, there seemed something Judaical, yet, at the same time

striking and affecting, in this mode of keeping the Sabbath holy.

Insensibly I felt my mode of sauntering by the side of the river, and

crossing successively the various persons who were passing homeward, and

without tarrying or delay, must expose me to observation at least, if not

to censure; and I slunk out of the frequented path, and found a trivial

occupation for my mind in marshalling my revolving walk in such a manner

as should least render me obnoxious to observation. The different alleys

lined out through this extensive meadow, and which are planted with

trees, like the Park of St. James's in London, gave me facilities for

carrying into effect these childish manoeuvres.

As I walked down one of these avenues, I heard, to my surprise, the sharp

and conceited voice of Andrew Fairservice, raised by a sense of

self-consequence to a pitch somewhat higher than others seemed to think

consistent with the solemnity of the day. To slip behind the row of trees

under which I walked was perhaps no very dignified proceeding; but it was

the easiest mode of escaping his observation, and perhaps his impertinent

assiduity, and still more intrusive curiosity. As he passed, I heard him

communicate to a grave-looking man, in a black coat, a slouched hat, and

Geneva cloak, the following sketch of a character, which my self-love,

while revolting against it as a caricature, could not, nevertheless,

refuse to recognise as a likeness.

"Ay, ay, Mr. Hammorgaw, it's e'en as I tell ye. He's no a'thegither sae

void o' sense neither; he has a gloaming sight o' what's reasonable--that

is anes and awa'--a glisk and nae mair; but he's crack-brained and

cockle-headed about his nipperty-tipperty poetry nonsense--He'll glowr at

an auld-warld barkit aik-snag as if it were a queezmaddam in full

bearing; and a naked craig, wi' a bum jawing ower't, is unto him as a

garden garnisht with flowering knots and choice pot-herbs. Then he wad

rather claver wi' a daft quean they ca' Diana Vernon (weel I wet they

might ca' her Diana of the Ephesians, for she's little better than a

heathen--better? she's waur--a Roman, a mere Roman)--he'll claver wi'

her, or any ither idle slut, rather than hear what might do him gude a'

the days of his life, frae you or me, Mr. Hammorgaw, or ony ither sober

and sponsible person. Reason, sir, is what he canna endure--he's a' for

your vanities and volubilities; and he ance tell'd me (puir blinded

creature!) that the Psalms of David were excellent poetry! as if the holy

Psalmist thought o' rattling rhymes in a blether, like his ain silly

clinkum-clankum things that he ca's verse. Gude help him!--twa lines o'

Davie Lindsay would ding a' he ever clerkit."

While listening to this perverted account of my temper and studies, you

will not be surprised if I meditated for Mr. Fairservice the unpleasant

surprise of a broken pate on the first decent opportunity. His friend

only intimated his attention by "Ay, ay!" and "Is't e'en sae?" and

suchlike expressions of interest, at the proper breaks in Mr.

Fairservice's harangue, until at length, in answer to some observation of

greater length, the import of which I only collected from my trusty

guide's reply, honest Andrew answered, "Tell him a bit o'my mind, quoth

ye? Wha wad be fule then but Andrew? He's a red-wad deevil, man--He's

like Giles Heathertap's auld boar;--ye need but shake a clout at him to

make him turn and gore. Bide wi' him, say ye?--Troth, I kenna what for I

bide wi' him mysell. But the lad's no a bad lad after a'; and he needs

some carefu' body to look after him. He hasna the right grip o' his

hand--the gowd slips through't like water, man; and it's no that ill a

thing to be near him when his purse is in his hand, and it's seldom out

o't. And then he's come o' guid kith and kin--My heart warms to the poor

thoughtless callant, Mr. Hammorgaw--and then the penny fee"--

In the latter part of this instructive communication, Mr. Fairservice

lowered his voice to a tone better beseeming the conversation in a place

of public resort on a Sabbath evening, and his companion and he were soon

beyond my hearing. My feelings of hasty resentment soon subsided, under

the conviction that, as Andrew himself might have said, "A harkener

always hears a bad tale of himself," and that whoever should happen to

overhear their character discussed in their own servants'-hall, must

prepare to undergo the scalpel of some such anatomist as Mr. Fairservice.

The incident was so far useful, as, including the feelings to which it

gave rise, it sped away a part of the time which hung so heavily on my

hand.

Evening had now closed, and the growing darkness gave to the broad,

still, and deep expanse of the brimful river, first a hue sombre and

uniform--then a dismal and turbid appearance, partially lighted by a

waning and pallid moon. The massive and ancient bridge which stretches

across the Clyde was now but dimly visible, and resembled that which

Mirza, in his unequalled vision, has described as traversing the valley

of Bagdad. The low-browed arches, seen as imperfectly as the dusky

current which they bestrode, seemed rather caverns which swallowed up the

gloomy waters of the river, than apertures contrived for their passage.

With the advancing night the stillness of the scene increased. There was

yet a twinkling light occasionally seen to glide along by the stream,

which conducted home one or two of the small parties, who, after the

abstinence and religious duties of the day, had partaken of a social

supper--the only meal at which the rigid Presbyterians made some advance

to sociality on the Sabbath. Occasionally, also, the hoofs of a horse

were heard, whose rider, after spending the Sunday in Glasgow, was

directing his steps towards his residence in the country. These sounds

and sights became gradually of more rare occurrence; at length they

altogether ceased, and I was left to enjoy my solitary walk on the shores

of the Clyde in solemn silence, broken only by the tolling of the

successive hours from the steeples of the churches.

But as the night advanced my impatience at the uncertainty of the

situation in which I was placed increased every moment, and became nearly

ungovernable. I began to question whether I had been imposed upon by the

trick of a fool, the raving of a madman, or the studied machinations of a

villain, and paced the little quay or pier adjoining the entrance to the

bridge, in a state of incredible anxiety and vexation. At length the hour

of twelve o'clock swung its summons over the city from the belfry of the

metropolitan church of St. Mungo, and was answered and vouched by all the

others like dutiful diocesans. The echoes had scarcely ceased to repeat

the last sound, when a human form--the first I had seen for two

hours--appeared passing along the bridge from the southern shore of the

river. I advanced to meet him with a feeling as if my fate depended on

the result of the interview, so much had my anxiety been wound up by

protracted expectation. All that I could remark of the passenger as we

advanced towards each other, was that his frame was rather beneath than

above the middle size, but apparently strong, thick-set, and muscular;

his dress a horseman's wrapping coat. I slackened my pace, and almost

paused as I advanced in expectation that he would address me. But to my

inexpressible disappointment he passed without speaking, and I had no

pretence for being the first to address one who, notwithstanding his

appearance at the very hour of appointment, might nevertheless be an

absolute stranger. I stopped when he had passed me, and looked after

him, uncertain whether I ought not to follow him. The stranger walked on

till near the northern end of the bridge, then paused, looked back, and

turning round, again advanced towards me. I resolved that this time he

should not have the apology for silence proper to apparitions, who, it

is vulgarly supposed, cannot speak until they are spoken to. "You walk

late, sir," said I, as we met a second time.

"I bide tryste," was the reply; "and so I think do you, Mr.

Osbaldistone."

"You are then the person who requested to meet me here at this unusual

hour?"

"I am," he replied. "Follow me, and you shall know my reasons."

"Before following you, I must know your name and purpose," I answered.

"I am a man," was the reply; "and my purpose is friendly to you."

"A man!" I repeated;--"that is a very brief description."

"It will serve for one who has no other to give," said the stranger. "He

that is without name, without friends, without coin, without country, is

still at least a man; and he that has all these is no more."

"Yet this is still too general an account of yourself, to say the least

of it, to establish your credit with a stranger."

"It is all I mean to give, howsoe'er; you may choose to follow me, or to

remain without the information I desire to afford you."

"Can you not give me that information here?" I demanded.

"You must receive it from your eyes, not from my tongue--you must follow

me, or remain in ignorance of the information which I have to give you."

There was something short, determined, and even stern, in the man's

manner, not certainly well calculated to conciliate undoubting

confidence.

"What is it you fear?" he said impatiently. "To whom, think ye, is your

life of such consequence, that they should seek to bereave ye of it?"

"I fear nothing," I replied firmly, though somewhat hastily. "Walk on--I

attend you."

We proceeded, contrary to my expectation, to re-enter the town, and

glided like mute spectres, side by side, up its empty and silent streets.

The high and gloomy stone fronts, with the variegated ornaments and

pediments of the windows, looked yet taller and more sable by the

imperfect moonshine. Our walk was for some minutes in perfect silence. At

length my conductor spoke.

"Are you afraid?"

"I retort your own words," I replied: "wherefore should I fear?"

"Because you are with a stranger--perhaps an enemy, in a place where you

have no friends and many enemies."

"I neither fear you nor them; I am young, active, and armed."

"I am not armed," replied my conductor: "but no matter, a willing hand

never lacked weapon. You say you fear nothing; but if you knew who was by

your side, perhaps you might underlie a tremor."

"And why should I?" replied I. "I again repeat, I fear nought that you

can do."

"Nought that I can do?--Be it so. But do you not fear the consequences of

being found with one whose very name whispered in this lonely street

would make the stones themselves rise up to apprehend him--on whose head

half the men in Glasgow would build their fortune as on a found treasure,

had they the luck to grip him by the collar--the sound of whose

apprehension were as welcome at the Cross of Edinburgh as ever the news

of a field stricken and won in Flanders?"

"And who then are you, whose name should create so deep a feeling of

terror?" I replied.

"No enemy of yours, since I am conveying you to a place, where, were I

myself recognised and identified, iron to the heels and hemp to the craig

would be my brief dooming."

I paused and stood still on the pavement, drawing back so as to have the

most perfect view of my companion which the light afforded me, and which

was sufficient to guard against any sudden motion of assault.

"You have said," I answered, "either too much or too little--too much to

induce me to confide in you as a mere stranger, since you avow yourself a

person amenable to the laws of the country in which we are--and too

little, unless you could show that you are unjustly subjected to their

rigour."

As I ceased to speak, he made a step towards me. I drew back

instinctively, and laid my hand on the hilt of my sword.

"What!" said he--"on an unarmed man, and your friend?"

"I am yet ignorant if you are either the one or the other," I replied;

"and to say the truth, your language and manner might well entitle me to

doubt both."

"It is manfully spoken," replied my conductor; "and I respect him whose

hand can keep his head.--I will be frank and free with you--I am

conveying you to prison."

"To prison!" I exclaimed--"by what warrant or for what offence?--You

shall have my life sooner than my liberty--I defy you, and I will not

follow you a step farther."

"I do not," he said, "carry you there as a prisoner; I am," he added,

drawing himself haughtily up, "neither a messenger nor sheriff's officer.

I carry you to see a prisoner from whose lips you will learn the risk in

which you presently stand. Your liberty is little risked by the visit;

mine is in some peril; but that I readily encounter on your account, for

I care not for risk, and I love a free young blood, that kens no

protector but the cross o' the sword."

While he spoke thus, we had reached the principal street, and were

pausing before a large building of hewn stone, garnished, as I thought I

could perceive, with gratings of iron before the windows.

"Muckle," said the stranger, whose language became more broadly national

as he assumed a tone of colloquial freedom--"Muckle wad the provost and

bailies o' Glasgow gie to hae him sitting with iron garters to his hose

within their tolbooth that now stands wi' his legs as free as the

red-deer's on the outside on't. And little wad it avail them; for an if

they had me there wi' a stane's weight o' iron at every ankle, I would

show them a toom room and a lost lodger before to-morrow--But come on,

what stint ye for?"

As he spoke thus, he tapped at a low wicket, and was answered by a sharp

voice, as of one awakened from a dream or reverie,--"Fa's tat?--Wha's

that, I wad say?--and fat a deil want ye at this hour at e'en?--Clean

again rules--clean again rules, as they ca' them."

The protracted tone in which the last words were uttered, betokened that

the speaker was again composing himself to slumber. But my guide spoke in

a loud whisper--"Dougal, man! hae ye forgotten Ha nun Gregarach?"

"Deil a bit, deil a bit," was the ready and lively response, and I heard

the internal guardian of the prison-gate bustle up with great alacrity. A

few words were exchanged between my conductor and the turnkey in a

language to which I was an absolute stranger. The bolts revolved, but

with a caution which marked the apprehension that the noise might be

overheard, and we stood within the vestibule of the prison of Glasgow,--a

small, but strong guard-room, from which a narrow staircase led upwards,

and one or two low entrances conducted to apartments on the same level

with the outward gate, all secured with the jealous strength of wickets,

bolts, and bars. The walls, otherwise naked, were not unsuitably

garnished with iron fetters, and other uncouth implements, which might be

designed for purposes still more inhuman, interspersed with partisans,

guns, pistols of antique manufacture, and other weapons of defence and

offence.

At finding myself so unexpectedly, fortuitously, and, as it were, by

stealth, introduced within one of the legal fortresses of Scotland, I

could not help recollecting my adventure in Northumberland, and fretting

at the strange incidents which again, without any demerits of my own,

threatened to place me in a dangerous and disagreeable collision with the

laws of a country which I visited only in the capacity of a stranger.

CHAPTER FIFTH.

Look round thee, young Astolpho: Here's the place

Which men (for being poor) are sent to starve in;

Rude remedy, I trow, for sore disease.

Within these walls, stifled by damp and stench,

Doth Hope's fair torch expire; and at the snuff,

Ere yet 'tis quite extinct, rude, wild, and way-ward,

The desperate revelries of wild despair,

Kindling their hell-born cressets, light to deeds

That the poor captive would have died ere practised,

Till bondage sunk his soul to his condition.

The Prison, _Scene III. Act I._

At my first entrance I turned an eager glance towards my conductor; but

the lamp in the vestibule was too low in flame to give my curiosity any

satisfaction by affording a distinct perusal of his features. As the

turnkey held the light in his hand, the beams fell more full on his own

scarce less interesting figure. He was a wild shock-headed looking

animal, whose profusion of red hair covered and obscured his features,

which were otherwise only characterised by the extravagant joy that

affected him at the sight of my guide. In my experience I have met

nothing so absolutely resembling my idea of a very uncouth, wild, and

ugly savage, adoring the idol of his tribe. He grinned, he shivered, he

laughed, he was near crying, if he did not actually cry. He had a "Where

shall I go?--What can I do for you?" expression of face; the complete,

surrendered, and anxious subservience and devotion of which it is

difficult to describe, otherwise than by the awkward combination which I

have attempted. The fellow's voice seemed choking in his ecstasy, and

only could express itself in such interjections as "Oigh! oigh!--Ay!

ay!--it's lang since she's seen ye!" and other exclamations equally brief,

expressed in the same unknown tongue in which he had communicated with my

conductor while we were on the outside of the jail door. My guide

received all this excess of joyful gratulation much like a prince too

early accustomed to the homage of those around him to be much moved by

it, yet willing to requite it by the usual forms of royal courtesy. He

extended his hand graciously towards the turnkey, with a civil inquiry of

"How's a' wi' you, Dougal?"

"Oigh! oigh!" exclaimed Dougal, softening the sharp exclamations of his

surprise as he looked around with an eye of watchful alarm--"Oigh! to see

you here--to see you here!--Oigh!--what will come o' ye gin the bailies

suld come to get witting--ta filthy, gutty hallions, tat they are?"

My guide placed his finger on his lip, and said, "Fear nothing, Dougal;

your hands shall never draw a bolt on me."

"Tat sall they no," said Dougal; "she suld--she wad--that is, she wishes

them hacked aff by the elbows first--But when are ye gaun yonder again?

and ye'll no forget to let her ken--she's your puir cousin, God kens,

only seven times removed."

"I will let you ken, Dougal, as soon as my plans are settled."

"And, by her sooth, when you do, an it were twal o' the Sunday at e'en,

she'll fling her keys at the provost's head or she gie them anither turn,

and that or ever Monday morning begins--see if she winna."

My mysterious stranger cut his acquaintance's ecstasies short by again

addressing him, in what I afterwards understood to be the Irish, Earse,

or Gaelic, explaining, probably, the services which he required at his

hand. The answer, "Wi' a' her heart--wi' a' her soul," with a good deal

of indistinct muttering in a similar tone, intimated the turnkey's

acquiescence in what he proposed. The fellow trimmed his dying lamp, and

made a sign to me to follow him.

"Do you not go with us?" said I, looking to my conductor.

"It is unnecessary," he replied; "my company may be inconvenient for you,

and I had better remain to secure our retreat."

"I do not suppose you mean to betray me to danger," said I.

"To none but what I partake in doubly," answered the stranger, with a

voice of assurance which it was impossible to mistrust.

I followed the turnkey, who, leaving the inner wicket unlocked behind

him, led me up a _turnpike_ (so the Scotch call a winding stair), then

along a narrow gallery--then opening one of several doors which led into

the passage, he ushered me into a small apartment, and casting his eye on

the pallet-bed which occupied one corner, said with an under voice, as he

placed the lamp on a little deal table, "She's sleeping."

"She!--who?--can it be Diana Vernon in this abode of misery?"

I turned my eye to the bed, and it was with a mixture of disappointment

oddly mingled with pleasure, that I saw my first suspicion had deceived

me. I saw a head neither young nor beautiful, garnished with a grey beard

of two days' growth, and accommodated with a red nightcap. The first

glance put me at ease on the score of Diana Vernon; the second, as the

slumberer awoke from a heavy sleep, yawned, and rubbed his eyes,

presented me with features very different indeed--even those of my poor

friend Owen. I drew back out of view an instant, that he might have time

to recover himself; fortunately recollecting that I was but an intruder

on these cells of sorrow, and that any alarm might be attended with

unhappy consequences.

Meantime, the unfortunate formalist, raising himself from the pallet-bed

with the assistance of one hand, and scratching his cap with the other,

exclaimed in a voice in which as much peevishness as he was capable of

feeling, contended with drowsiness, "I'll tell you what, Mr. Dug-well, or

whatever your name may be, the sum-total of the matter is, that if my

natural rest is to be broken in this manner, I must complain to the lord

mayor."

"Shentlemans to speak wi' her," replied Dougal, resuming the true dogged

sullen tone of a turnkey, in exchange for the shrill clang of Highland

congratulation with which he had welcomed my mysterious guide; and,

turning on his heel, he left the apartment.

It was some time before I could prevail upon the unfortunate sleeper

awakening to recognise me; and when he did so, the distress of the worthy

creature was extreme, at supposing, which he naturally did, that I had

been sent thither as a partner of his captivity.

"O, Mr. Frank, what have you brought yourself and the house to?--I think

nothing of myself, that am a mere cipher, so to speak; but you, that was

your father's sum-total--his omnium,--you that might have been the first

man in the first house in the first city, to be shut up in a nasty Scotch

jail, where one cannot even get the dirt brushed off their clothes!"

He rubbed, with an air of peevish irritation, the once stainless brown

coat, which had now shared some of the impurities of the floor of his

prison-house,--his habits of extreme punctilious neatness acting

mechanically to increase his distress.--"O Heaven be gracious to us!" he

continued. "What news this will be on 'Change! There has not the like

come there since the battle of Almanza, where the total of the British

loss was summed up to five thousand men killed and wounded, besides a

floating balance of missing--but what will that be to the news that

Osbaldistone and Tresham have stopped!"

I broke in on his lamentations to acquaint him that I was no prisoner,

though scarce able to account for my being in that place at such an hour.

I could only silence his inquiries by persisting in those which his own

situation suggested; and at length obtained from him such information as

he was able to give me. It was none of the most distinct; for, however

clear-headed in his own routine of commercial business, Owen, you are

well aware, was not very acute in comprehending what lay beyond that

sphere.

The sum of his information was, that of two correspondents of my father's

firm at Glasgow, where, owing to engagements in Scotland formerly alluded

to, he transacted a great deal of business, both my father and Owen had

found the house of MacVittie, MacFin, and Company, the most obliging and

accommodating. They had deferred to the great English house on every

possible occasion; and in their bargains and transactions acted, without

repining, the part of the jackall, who only claims what the lion is

pleased to leave him. However small the share of profit allotted to them,

it was always, as they expressed it, "enough for the like of them;"

however large the portion of trouble, "they were sensible they could not

do too much to deserve the continued patronage and good opinion of their

honoured friends in Crane Alley."

The dictates of my father were to MacVittie and MacFin the laws of the

Medes and Persians, not to be altered, innovated, or even discussed; and

the punctilios exacted by Owen in their business transactions, for he was

a great lover of form, more especially when he could dictate it _ex

cathedra,_ seemed scarce less sanctimonious in their eyes. This tone of

deep and respectful observance went all currently down with Owen; but my

father looked a little closer into men's bosoms, and whether suspicious

of this excess of deference, or, as a lover of brevity and simplicity in

business, tired with these gentlemen's long-winded professions of regard,

he had uniformly resisted their desire to become his sole agents in

Scotland. On the contrary, he transacted many affairs through a

correspondent of a character perfectly different--a man whose good

opinion of himself amounted to self-conceit, and who, disliking the

English in general as much as my father did the Scotch, would hold no

communication but on a footing of absolute equality; jealous, moreover;

captious occasionally; as tenacious of his own opinions in point of form

as Owen could be of his; and totally indifferent though the authority of

all Lombard Street had stood against his own private opinion.

As these peculiarities of temper rendered it difficult to transact

business with Mr. Nicol Jarvie,--as they occasioned at times disputes and

coldness between the English house and their correspondent, which were

only got over by a sense of mutual interest,--as, moreover, Owen's

personal vanity sometimes suffered a little in the discussions to which

they gave rise, you cannot be surprised, Tresham, that our old friend

threw at all times the weight of his influence in favour of the civil,

discreet, accommodating concern of MacVittie and MacFin, and spoke of

Jarvie as a petulant, conceited Scotch pedlar, with whom there was no

dealing.

It was also not surprising, that in these circumstances, which I only

learned in detail some time afterwards, Owen, in the difficulties to

which the house was reduced by the absence of my father, and the

disappearance of Rashleigh, should, on his arrival in Scotland, which

took place two days before mine, have recourse to the friendship of those

correspondents, who had always professed themselves obliged, gratified,

and devoted to the service of his principal. He was received at Messrs.

MacVittie and MacFin's counting-house in the Gallowgate, with something

like the devotion a Catholic would pay to his tutelar saint. But, alas!

this sunshine was soon overclouded, when, encouraged by the fair hopes

which it inspired, he opened the difficulties of the house to his

friendly correspondents, and requested their counsel and assistance.

MacVittie was almost stunned by the communication; and MacFin, ere it was

completed, was already at the ledger of their firm, and deeply engaged in

the very bowels of the multitudinous accounts between their house and

that of Osbaldistone and Tresham, for the purpose of discovering on which

side the balance lay. Alas! the scale depressed considerably against the

English firm; and the faces of MacVittie and MacFin, hitherto only blank

and doubtful, became now ominous, grim, and lowering. They met Mr. Owen's

request of countenance and assistance with a counter-demand of instant

security against imminent hazard of eventual loss; and at length,

speaking more plainly, required that a deposit of assets, destined for

other purposes, should be placed in their hands for that purpose. Owen

repelled this demand with great indignation, as dishonourable to his

constituents, unjust to the other creditors of Osbaldistone and Tresham,

and very ungrateful on the part of those by whom it was made.

The Scotch partners gained, in the course of this controversy, what is

very convenient to persons who are in the wrong, an opportunity and

pretext for putting themselves in a violent passion, and for taking,

under the pretext of the provocation they had received, measures to which

some sense of decency, if not of conscience, might otherwise have

deterred them from resorting.

Owen had a small share, as I believe is usual, in the house to which he

acted as head-clerk, and was therefore personally liable for all its

obligations. This was known to Messrs. MacVittie and MacFin; and, with a

view of making him feel their power, or rather in order to force him, at

this emergency, into those measures in their favour, to which he had

expressed himself so repugnant, they had recourse to a summary process of

arrest and imprisonment,--which it seems the law of Scotland (therein

surely liable to much abuse) allows to a creditor, who finds his

conscience at liberty to make oath that the debtor meditates departing

from the realm. Under such a warrant had poor Owen been confined to

durance on the day preceding that when I was so strangely guided to his

prison-house.

Thus possessed of the alarming outline of facts, the question remained,

what was to be done and it was not of easy determination. I plainly

perceived the perils with which we were surrounded, but it was more

difficult to suggest any remedy. The warning which I had already received

seemed to intimate, that my own personal liberty might be endangered by

an open appearance in Owen's behalf. Owen entertained the same

apprehension, and, in the exaggeration of his terror, assured me that a

Scotchman, rather than run the risk of losing a farthing by an

Englishman, would find law for arresting his wife, children, man-servant,

maidservant, and stranger within his household. The laws concerning debt,

in most countries, are so unmercifully severe, that I could not

altogether disbelieve his statement; and my arrest, in the present

circumstances, would have been a _coup-de-grace_ to my father's affairs.

In this dilemma, I asked Owen if he had not thought of having recourse to

my father's other correspondent in Glasgow, Mr. Nicol Jarvie?

"He had sent him a letter," he replied, "that morning; but if the

smooth-tongued and civil house in the Gallowgate* had used him thus, what

was to be expected from the cross-grained crab-stock in the Salt-Market?

* [A street in the old town of Glasgow.]

You might as well ask a broker to give up his percentage, as expect a

favour from him without the _per contra._ He had not even," Owen said,

"answered his letter though it was put into his hand that morning as he

went to church." And here the despairing man-of-figures threw himself

down on his pallet, exclaiming,--"My poor dear master! My poor dear

master! O Mr. Frank, Mr. Frank, this is all your obstinacy!--But God

forgive me for saying so to you in your distress! It's God's disposing,

and man must submit."

My philosophy, Tresham, could not prevent my sharing in the honest

creature's distress, and we mingled our tears,--the more bitter on my

part, as the perverse opposition to my father's will, with which the

kind-hearted Owen forbore to upbraid me, rose up to my conscience as the

cause of all this affliction.

In the midst of our mingled sorrow, we were disturbed and surprised by a

loud knocking at the outward door of the prison. I ran to the top of the

staircase to listen, but could only hear the voice of the turnkey,

alternately in a high tone, answering to some person without, and in a

whisper, addressed to the person who had guided me hither--"She's

coming--she's coming," aloud; then in a low key, "O hon-a-ri! O hon-a-ri!

what'll she do now?--Gang up ta stair, and hide yourself ahint ta

Sassenach shentleman's ped.--She's coming as fast as she can.--Ahellanay!

it's my lord provosts, and ta pailies, and ta guard--and ta captain's

coming toon stairs too--Got press her! gang up or he meets her.--She's

coming--she's coming--ta lock's sair roosted."

While Dougal, unwillingly, and with as much delay as possible, undid the

various fastenings to give admittance to those without, whose impatience

became clamorous, my guide ascended the winding stair, and sprang into

Owen's apartment, into which I followed him. He cast his eyes hastily

round, as if looking for a place of concealment; then said to me, "Lend

me your pistols--yet it's no matter, I can do without them--Whatever you

see, take no heed, and do not mix your hand in another man's feud--This

gear's mine, and I must manage it as I dow; but I have been as hard

bested, and worse, than I am even now."

As the stranger spoke these words, he stripped from his person the

cumbrous upper coat in which he was wrapt, confronted the door of the

apartment, on which he fixed a keen and determined glance, drawing his

person a little back to concentrate his force, like a fine horse brought

up to the leaping-bar. I had not a moment's doubt that he meant to

extricate himself from his embarrassment, whatever might be the cause of

it, by springing full upon those who should appear when the doors opened,

and forcing his way through all opposition into the street;--and such was

the appearance of strength and agility displayed in his frame, and of

determination in his look and manner, that I did not doubt a moment but

that he might get clear through his opponents, unless they employed fatal

means to stop his purpose. It was a period of awful suspense betwixt the

opening of the outward gate and that of the door of the apartment, when

there appeared--no guard with bayonets fixed, or watch with clubs, bills,

or partisans, but a good-looking young woman, with grogram petticoats,

tucked up for trudging through the streets, and holding a lantern in her

hand. This female ushered in a more important personage, in form, stout,

short, and somewhat corpulent; and by dignity, as it soon appeared, a

magistrate, bob-wigged, bustling, and breathless with peevish impatience.

My conductor, at his appearance, drew back as if to escape observation;

but he could not elude the penetrating twinkle with which this dignitary

reconnoitered the whole apartment.

"A bonny thing it is, and a beseeming, that I should be kept at the door

half an hour, Captain Stanchells," said he, addressing the principal

jailor, who now showed himself at the door as if in attendance on the

great man, "knocking as hard to get into the tolbooth as onybody else wad

to get out of it, could that avail them, poor fallen creatures!--And

how's this?--how's this?--strangers in the jail after lock-up hours, and

on the Sabbath evening!--I shall look after this, Stanchells, you may

depend on't--Keep the door locked, and I'll speak to these gentlemen in a

gliffing--But first I maun hae a crack wi' an auld acquaintance here.--

Mr. Owen, Mr. Owen, how's a' wi' ye, man?"

"Pretty well in body, I thank you, Mr. Jarvie," drawled out poor Owen,

"but sore afflicted in spirit."

"Nae doubt, nae doubt--ay, ay--it's an awfu' whummle--and for ane that

held his head sae high too--human nature, human nature--Ay ay, we're a'

subject to a downcome. Mr. Osbaldistone is a gude honest gentleman; but I

aye said he was ane o' them wad make a spune or spoil a horn, as my

father the worthy deacon used to say. The deacon used to say to me,

'Nick--young Nick' (his name was Nicol as weel as mine; sae folk ca'd us

in their daffin', young Nick and auld Nick)--'Nick,' said he, 'never put

out your arm farther than ye can draw it easily back again.' I hae said

sae to Mr. Osbaldistone, and he didna seem to take it a'thegither sae

kind as I wished--but it was weel meant--weel meant."

This discourse, delivered with prodigious volubility, and a great

appearance of self-complacency, as he recollected his own advice and

predictions, gave little promise of assistance at the hands of Mr.

Jarvie. Yet it soon appeared rather to proceed from a total want of

delicacy than any deficiency of real kindness; for when Owen expressed

himself somewhat hurt that these things should be recalled to memory in

his present situation, the Glaswegian took him by the hand, and bade him

"Cheer up a gliff! D'ye think I wad hae comed out at twal o'clock at

night, and amaist broken the Lord's day, just to tell a fa'en man o' his

backslidings? Na, na, that's no Bailie Jarvie's gate, nor was't his

worthy father's the deacon afore him. Why, man! it's my rule never to

think on warldly business on the Sabbath, and though I did a' I could to

keep your note that I gat this morning out o' my head, yet I thought mair

on it a' day, than on the preaching--And it's my rule to gang to my bed

wi' the yellow curtains preceesely at ten o'clock--unless I were eating a

haddock wi' a neighbour, or a neighbour wi' me--ask the lass-quean there,

if it isna a fundamental rule in my household; and here hae I sitten up

reading gude books, and gaping as if I wad swallow St. Enox Kirk, till it

chappit twal, whilk was a lawfu' hour to gie a look at my ledger, just to

see how things stood between us; and then, as time and tide wait for no

man, I made the lass get the lantern, and came slipping my ways here to

see what can be dune anent your affairs. Bailie Jarvie can command

entrance into the tolbooth at ony hour, day or night;--sae could my

father the deacon in his time, honest man, praise to his memory."

Although Owen groaned at the mention of the ledger, leading me grievously

to fear that here also the balance stood in the wrong column; and

although the worthy magistrate's speech expressed much self-complacency,

and some ominous triumph in his own superior judgment, yet it was blended

with a sort of frank and blunt good-nature, from which I could not help

deriving some hopes. He requested to see some papers he mentioned,

snatched them hastily from Owen's hand, and sitting on the bed, to "rest

his shanks," as he was pleased to express the accommodation which that

posture afforded him, his servant girl held up the lantern to him, while,

pshawing, muttering, and sputtering, now at the imperfect light, now at

the contents of the packet, he ran over the writings it contained.

Seeing him fairly engaged in this course of study, the guide who had

brought me hither seemed disposed to take an unceremonious leave. He made

a sign to me to say nothing, and intimated, by his change of posture, an

intention to glide towards the door in such a manner as to attract the

least possible observation. But the alert magistrate (very different from

my old acquaintance, Mr. Justice Inglewood) instantly detected and

interrupted his purposes. "I say, look to the door, Stanchells--shut and

lock it, and keep watch on the outside."

The stranger's brow darkened, and he seemed for an instant again to

meditate the effecting his retreat by violence; but ere he had

determined, the door closed, and the ponderous bolt revolved. He muttered

an exclamation in Gaelic, strode across the floor, and then, with an air

of dogged resolution, as if fixed and prepared to see the scene to an

end, sate himself down on the oak table, and whistled a strathspey.

Mr. Jarvie, who seemed very alert and expeditious in going through

business, soon showed himself master of that which he had been

considering, and addressed himself to Mr. Owen in the following strain:--

"Weel, Mr. Owen, weel--your house are awin' certain sums to Messrs.

MacVittie and MacFin (shame fa' their souple snouts! they made that and

mair out o' a bargain about the aik-woods at Glen-Cailziechat, that they

took out atween my teeth--wi' help o' your gude word, I maun needs say,

Mr. Owen--but that makes nae odds now)--Weel, sir, your house awes them

this siller; and for this, and relief of other engagements they stand in

for you, they hae putten a double turn o' Stanchells' muckle key on ye.--

Weel, sir, ye awe this siller--and maybe ye awe some mair to some other

body too--maybe ye awe some to myself, Bailie Nicol Jarvie."

"I cannot deny, sir, but the balance may of this date be brought out

against us, Mr. Jarvie," said Owen; "but you'll please to consider"--

"I hae nae time to consider e'enow, Mr. Owen--Sae near Sabbath at e'en,

and out o' ane's warm bed at this time o' night, and a sort o' drow in

the air besides--there's nae time for considering--But, sir, as I was

saying, ye awe me money--it winna deny--ye awe me money, less or mair,

I'll stand by it. But then, Mr. Owen, I canna see how you, an active man

that understands business, can redd out the business ye're come down

about, and clear us a' aff--as I have gritt hope ye will--if ye're keepit

lying here in the tolbooth of Glasgow. Now, sir, if you can find caution

_judicio sisti,_--that is, that ye winna flee the country, but appear and

relieve your caution when ca'd for in our legal courts, ye may be set at

liberty this very morning."

"Mr. Jarvie," said Owen, "if any friend would become surety for me to

that effect, my liberty might be usefully employed, doubtless, both for

the house and all connected with it."

"Aweel, sir," continued Jarvie, "and doubtless such a friend wad expect

ye to appear when ca'd on, and relieve him o' his engagement."

"And I should do so as certainly, bating sickness or death, as that two

and two make four."

"Aweel, Mr. Owen," resumed the citizen of Glasgow, "I dinna misdoubt ye,

and I'll prove it, sir--I'll prove it. I am a carefu' man, as is weel

ken'd, and industrious, as the hale town can testify; and I can win my

crowns, and keep my crowns, and count my crowns, wi' onybody in the Saut

Market, or it may be in the Gallowgate. And I'm a prudent man, as my

father the deacon was before me;--but rather than an honest civil

gentleman, that understands business, and is willing to do justice to all

men, should lie by the heels this gate, unable to help himsell or onybody

else--why, conscience, man! I'll be your bail myself--But ye'll mind it's

a bail _judicio sisti,_ as our town-clerk says, not _judicatum solvi;_

ye'll mind that, for there's muckle difference."

Mr. Owen assured him, that as matters then stood, he could not expect any

one to become surety for the actual payment of the debt, but that there

was not the most distant cause for apprehending loss from his failing to

present himself when lawfully called upon.

"I believe ye--I believe ye. Eneugh said--eneugh said. We'se hae your

legs loose by breakfast-time.--And now let's hear what thir chamber

chiels o' yours hae to say for themselves, or how, in the name of unrule,

they got here at this time o' night."

[Illustration: Rob Roy in Prison--68]

CHAPTER SIXTH.

Hame came our gudeman at e'en,

And hame came he,

And there he saw a man

Where a man suldna be.

"How's this now, kimmer?

How's this?" quo he,--

"How came this carle here

Without the leave o' me?"

Old Song.

The magistrate took the light out of the servant-maid's hand, and

advanced to his scrutiny, like Diogenes in the street of Athens,

lantern-in-hand, and probably with as little expectation as that of the

cynic, that he was likely to encounter any especial treasure in the

course of his researches. The first whom he approached was my mysterious

guide, who, seated on a table as I have already described him, with his

eyes firmly fixed on the wall, his features arranged into the utmost

inflexibility of expression, his hands folded on his breast with an air

betwixt carelessness and defiance, his heel patting against the foot of

the table, to keep time with the tune which he continued to whistle,

submitted to Mr. Jarvie's investigation with an air of absolute

confidence and assurance which, for a moment, placed at fault the memory

and sagacity of the acute investigator.

"Ah!--Eh!--Oh!" exclaimed the Bailie. "My conscience!--it's

impossible!--and yet--no!--Conscience!--it canna be!--and yet

again--Deil hae me, that I suld say sae!--Ye robber--ye cateran--ye born

deevil that ye are, to a' bad ends and nae gude ane!--can this be you?"

"E'en as ye see, Bailie," was the laconic answer.

"Conscience! if I am na clean bumbaized--_you_, ye cheat-the-wuddy

rogue--_you_ here on your venture in the tolbooth o' Glasgow?--What d'ye

think's the value o' your head?"

"Umph!--why, fairly weighed, and Dutch weight, it might weigh down one

provost's, four bailies', a town-clerk's, six deacons', besides

stent-masters'"--

"Ah, ye reiving villain!" interrupted Mr. Jarvie. "But tell ower your

sins, and prepare ye, for if I say the word"--

"True, Bailie," said he who was thus addressed, folding his hands behind

him with the utmost _nonchalance,_ "but ye will never say that word."

"And why suld I not, sir?" exclaimed the magistrate--"Why suld I not?

Answer me that--why suld I not?"

"For three sufficient reasons, Bailie Jarvie.--First, for auld langsyne;

second, for the sake of the auld wife ayont the fire at Stuckavrallachan,

that made some mixture of our bluids, to my own proper shame be it

spoken! that has a cousin wi' accounts, and yarn winnles, and looms and

shuttles, like a mere mechanical person; and lastly, Bailie, because if I

saw a sign o' your betraying me, I would plaster that wa' with your harns

ere the hand of man could rescue you!"

"Ye're a bauld desperate villain, sir," retorted the undaunted Bailie;

"and ye ken that I ken ye to be sae, and that I wadna stand a moment for

my ain risk."

"I ken weel," said the other, "ye hae gentle bluid in your veins, and I

wad be laith to hurt my ain kinsman. But I'll gang out here as free as I

came in, or the very wa's o' Glasgow tolbooth shall tell o't these ten

years to come."

"Weel, weel," said Mr. Jarvie, "bluid's thicker than water; and it liesna

in kith, kin, and ally, to see motes in ilka other's een if other een see

them no. It wad be sair news to the auld wife below the Ben of

Stuckavrallachan, that you, ye Hieland limmer, had knockit out my harns,

or that I had kilted you up in a tow. But ye'll own, ye dour deevil, that

were it no your very sell, I wad hae grippit the best man in the

Hielands."

"Ye wad hae tried, cousin," answered my guide, "that I wot weel; but I

doubt ye wad hae come aff wi' the short measure; for we gang-there-out

Hieland bodies are an unchancy generation when you speak to us o'

bondage. We downa bide the coercion of gude braid-claith about our

hinderlans, let a be breeks o' free-stone, and garters o' iron."

"Ye'll find the stane breeks and the airn garters--ay, and the hemp

cravat, for a' that, neighbour," replied the Bailie.

"Nae man in a civilised country ever played the pliskies ye hae done--but

e'en pickle in your ain pock-neuk--I hae gi'en ye wanting."

"Well, cousin," said the other, "ye'll wear black at my burial."

"Deil a black cloak will be there, Robin, but the corbies and the

hoodie-craws, I'se gie ye my hand on that. But whar's the gude thousand

pund Scots that I lent ye, man, and when am I to see it again?"

"Where it is," replied my guide, after the affectation of considering for

a moment, "I cannot justly tell--probably where last year's snaw is."

"And that's on the tap of Schehallion, ye Hieland dog," said Mr. Jarvie;

"and I look for payment frae you where ye stand."

"Ay," replied the Highlander, "but I keep neither snaw nor dollars in my

sporran. And as to when you'll see it--why, just when the king enjoys his

ain again, as the auld sang says."

"Warst of a', Robin," retorted the Glaswegian,--"I mean, ye disloyal

traitor--Warst of a'!--Wad ye bring popery in on us, and arbitrary power,

and a foist and a warming-pan, and the set forms, and the curates, and

the auld enormities o' surplices and cerements? Ye had better stick

to your auld trade o' theft-boot, black-mail, spreaghs, and

gillravaging--better stealing nowte than ruining nations."

"Hout, man--whisht wi' your whiggery," answered the Celt; "we hae ken'd

ane anither mony a lang day. I'se take care your counting-room is no

cleaned out when the Gillon-a-naillie* come to redd up the Glasgow

buiths, and clear them o' their auld shop-wares.

* The lads with the kilts or petticoats.

And, unless it just fa' in the preceese way o' your duty, ye maunna see

me oftener, Nicol, than I am disposed to be seen."

"Ye are a dauring villain, Rob," answered the Bailie; "and ye will be

hanged, that will be seen and heard tell o'; but I'se ne'er be the ill

bird and foul my nest, set apart strong necessity and the skreigh of

duty, which no man should hear and be inobedient. And wha the deevil's

this?" he continued, turning to me--"Some gillravager that ye hae listed,

I daur say. He looks as if he had a bauld heart to the highway, and a

lang craig for the gibbet."

"This, good Mr. Jarvie," said Owen, who, like myself, had been struck

dumb during this strange recognition, and no less strange dialogue, which

took place betwixt these extraordinary kinsmen--"This, good Mr. Jarvie,

is young Mr. Frank Osbaldistone, only child of the head of our house, who

should have been taken into our firm at the time Mr. Rashleigh

Osbaldistone, his cousin, had the luck to be taken into it"--(Here Owen

could not suppress a groan)--"But howsoever"--

"Oh, I have heard of that smaik," said the Scotch merchant, interrupting

him; "it is he whom your principal, like an obstinate auld fule, wad make

a merchant o', wad he or wad he no,--and the lad turned a strolling

stage-player, in pure dislike to the labour an honest man should live by.

Weel, sir, what say you to your handiwork? Will Hamlet the Dane, or

Hamlet's ghost, be good security for Mr. Owen, sir?"

"I don't deserve your taunt," I replied, "though I respect your motive,

and am too grateful for the assistance you have afforded Mr. Owen, to

resent it. My only business here was to do what I could (it is perhaps

very little) to aid Mr. Owen in the management of my father's affairs. My

dislike of the commercial profession is a feeling of which I am the best

and sole judge."

"I protest," said the Highlander, "I had some respect for this callant

even before I ken'd what was in him; but now I honour him for his

contempt of weavers and spinners, and sic-like mechanical persons and

their pursuits."

"Ye're mad, Rob," said the Bailie--"mad as a March hare--though wherefore

a hare suld be mad at March mair than at Martinmas, is mair than I can

weel say. Weavers! Deil shake ye out o' the web the weaver craft made.

Spinners! ye'll spin and wind yourself a bonny pirn. And this young

birkie here, that ye're hoying and hounding on the shortest road to the

gallows and the deevil, will his stage-plays and his poetries help him

here, dye think, ony mair than your deep oaths and drawn dirks, ye

reprobate that ye are?--Will _Tityre tu patulae,_ as they ca' it, tell

him where Rashleigh Osbaldistone is? or Macbeth, and all his kernes and

galla-glasses, and your awn to boot, Rob, procure him five thousand

pounds to answer the bills which fall due ten days hence, were they a'

rouped at the Cross,--basket-hilts, Andra-Ferraras, leather targets,

brogues, brochan, and sporrans?"

"Ten days," I answered, and instinctively drew out Diana Vernon's packet;

and the time being elapsed during which I was to keep the seal sacred, I

hastily broke it open. A sealed letter fell from a blank enclosure, owing

to the trepidation with which I opened the parcel. A slight current of

wind, which found its way through a broken pane of the window, wafted the

letter to Mr. Jarvie's feet, who lifted it, examined the address with

unceremonious curiosity, and, to my astonishment, handed itto his

Highland kinsman, saying, "Here's a wind has blown a letter to its right

owner, though there were ten thousand chances against its coming to

hand."

The Highlander, having examined the address, broke the letter open

without the least ceremony. I endeavoured to interrupt his proceeding.

"You must satisfy me, sir," said I, "that the letter is intended for you

before I can permit you to peruse it."

"Make yourself quite easy, Mr. Osbaldistone," replied the mountaineer

with great composure.--"remember Justice Inglewood, Clerk Jobson, Mr.

Morris--above all, remember your vera humble servant, Robert Cawmil, and

the beautiful Diana Vernon. Remember all this, and doubt no longer that

the letter is for me."

I remained astonished at my own stupidity.--Through the whole night, the

voice, and even the features of this man, though imperfectly seen,

haunted me with recollections to which I could assign no exact local or

personal associations. But now the light dawned on me at once; this man

was Campbell himself. His whole peculiarities flashed on me at once,--the

deep strong voice--the inflexible, stern, yet considerate cast of

features--the Scottish brogue, with its corresponding dialect and

imagery, which, although he possessed the power at times of laying them

aside, recurred at every moment of emotion, and gave pith to his sarcasm,

or vehemence to his expostulation. Rather beneath the middle size than

above it, his limbs were formed upon the very strongest model that is

consistent with agility, while from the remarkable ease and freedom of

his movements, you could not doubt his possessing the latter quality in a

high degree of perfection. Two points in his person interfered with the

rules of symmetry; his shoulders were so broad in proportion to his

height, as, notwithstanding the lean and lathy appearance of his frame,

gave him something the air of being too square in respect to his stature;

and his arms, though round, sinewy, and strong, were so very long as to

be rather a deformity. I afterwards heard that this length of arm was a

circumstance on which he prided himself; that when he wore his native

Highland garb, he could tie the garters of his hose without stooping; and

that it gave him great advantage in the use of the broad-sword, at which

he was very dexterous. But certainly this want of symmetry destroyed the

claim he might otherwise have set up, to be accounted a very handsome

man; it gave something wild, irregular, and, as it were, unearthly, to

his appearance, and reminded me involuntarily of the tales which Mabel

used to tell of the old Picts who ravaged Northumberland in ancient

times, who, according to her tradition, were a sort of half-goblin

half-human beings, distinguished, like this man, for courage, cunning,

ferocity, the length of their arms, and the squareness of their

shoulders.

When, however, I recollected the circumstances in which we formerly met,

I could not doubt that the billet was most probably designed for him. He

had made a marked figure among those mysterious personages over whom

Diana seemed to exercise an influence, and from whom she experienced an

influence in her turn. It was painful to think that the fate of a being

so amiable was involved in that of desperadoes of this man's

description;--yet it seemed impossible to doubt it. Of what use, however,

could this person be to my father's affairs?--I could think only of one.

Rashleigh Osbaldistone had, at the instigation of Miss Vernon, certainly

found means to produce Mr. Campbell when his presence was necessary to

exculpate me from Morris's accusation--Was it not possible that her

influence, in like manner, might prevail on Campbell to produce

Rashleigh? Speaking on this supposition, I requested to know where my

dangerous kinsman was, and when Mr. Campbell had seen him. The answer was

indirect.

"It's a kittle cast she has gien me to play; but yet it's fair play, and

I winna baulk her. Mr. Osbaldistone, I dwell not very far from hence--my

kinsman can show you the way--Leave Mr. Owen to do the best he can in

Glasgow--do you come and see me in the glens, and it's like I may

pleasure you, and stead your father in his extremity. I am but a poor

man; but wit's better than wealth--and, cousin" (turning from me to

address Mr. Jarvie), "if ye daur venture sae muckle as to eat a dish of

Scotch collops, and a leg o' red-deer venison wi' me, come ye wi' this

Sassenach gentleman as far as Drymen or Bucklivie,--or the Clachan of

Aberfoil will be better than ony o' them,--and I'll hae somebody waiting

to weise ye the gate to the place where I may be for the time--What say

ye, man? There's my thumb, I'll ne'er beguile thee."

"Na, na, Robin," said the cautious burgher, "I seldom like to leave the

Gorbals;* I have nae freedom to gang among your wild hills, Robin, and

your kilted red-shanks--it disna become my place, man."

* [The _Gorbals_ or "suburbs" are situate on the south side of the

River.]

"The devil damn your place and you baith!" reiterated Campbell. "The only

drap o' gentle bluid that's in your body was our great-grand-uncle's that

was justified* at Dumbarton, and you set yourself up to say ye wad

derogate frae your place to visit me!

* [Executed for treason.]

Hark thee, man--I owe thee a day in harst--I'll pay up your thousan pund

Scots, plack and bawbee, gin ye'll be an honest fallow for anes, and just

daiker up the gate wi' this Sassenach."

"Hout awa' wi' your gentility," replied the Bailie; "carry your gentle

bluid to the Cross, and see what ye'll buy wi't. But, if I _were_ to

come, wad ye really and soothfastly pay me the siller?"

"I swear to ye," said the Highlander, "upon the halidome of him that

sleeps beneath the grey stane at Inch-Cailleach."*

* Inch-Cailleach is an island in Lochlomond, where the clan of MacGregor

were wont to be interred, and where their sepulchres may still be seen.

It formerly contained a nunnery: hence the name of Inch-Cailleach, or the

island of Old Women.

"Say nae mair, Robin--say nae mair--We'll see what may be dune. But ye

maunna expect me to gang ower the Highland line--I'll gae beyond the line

at no rate. Ye maun meet me about Bucklivie or the Clachan of

Aberfoil,--and dinna forget the needful."

"Nae fear--nae fear," said Campbell; "I'll be as true as the steel blade

that never failed its master. But I must be budging, cousin, for the air

o' Glasgow tolbooth is no that ower salutary to a Highlander's

constitution."

"Troth," replied the merchant, "and if my duty were to be dune, ye

couldna change your atmosphere, as the minister ca's it, this ae wee

while.--Ochon, that I sud ever be concerned in aiding and abetting an

escape frae justice! it will be a shame and disgrace to me and mine, and

my very father's memory, for ever."

"Hout tout, man! let that flee stick in the wa'," answered his kinsman;

"when the dirt's dry it will rub out--Your father, honest man, could look

ower a friend's fault as weel as anither."

"Ye may be right, Robin," replied the Bailie, after a moment's

reflection; "he was a considerate man the deacon; he ken'd we had a' our

frailties, and he lo'ed his friends--Ye'll no hae forgotten him, Robin?"

This question he put in a softened tone, conveying as much at least of

the ludicrous as the pathetic.

"Forgotten him!" replied his kinsman--"what suld ail me to forget him?--a

wapping weaver he was, and wrought my first pair o' hose.--But come awa',

kinsman,

Come fill up my cap, come fill up my cann,

Come saddle my horses, and call up my man;

Come open your gates, and let me gae free,

I daurna stay langer in bonny Dundee."

"Whisht, sir!" said the magistrate, in an authoritative tone--"lilting

and singing sae near the latter end o' the Sabbath! This house may hear

ye sing anither tune yet--Aweel, we hae a' backslidings to answer

for--Stanchells, open the door."

The jailor obeyed, and we all sallied forth. Stanchells looked with some

surprise at the two strangers, wondering, doubtless, how they came into

these premises without his knowledge; but Mr. Jarvie's "Friends o' mine,

Stanchells--friends o' mine," silenced all disposition to inquiries. We

now descended into the lower vestibule, and hallooed more than once for

Dougal, to which summons no answer was returned; when Campbell observed

with a sardonic smile, "That if Dougal was the lad he kent him, he would

scarce wait to get thanks for his ain share of the night's wark, but was

in all probability on the full trot to the pass of Ballamaha"--

"And left us--and, abune a', me, mysell, locked up in the tolbooth a'

night!" exclaimed the Bailie, in ire and perturbation. "Ca' for

forehammers, sledge-hammers, pinches, and coulters; send for Deacon

Yettlin, the smith, an let him ken that Bailie Jarvie's shut up in the

tolbooth by a Highland blackguard, whom he'll hang up as high as Haman"--

"When ye catch him," said Campbell, gravely; "but stay--the door is

surely not locked."

Indeed, on examination, we found that the door was not only left open,

but that Dougal in his retreat had, by carrying off the keys along with

him, taken care that no one should exercise his office of porter in a

hurry.

"He has glimmerings o' common sense now, that creature Dougal," said

Campbell.--"he ken'd an open door might hae served me at a pinch."

We were by this time in the street.

"I tell you, Robin," said the magistrate, "in my puir mind, if ye live

the life ye do, ye suld hae ane o' your gillies door-keeper in every jail

in Scotland, in case o' the warst."

"Ane o' my kinsmen a bailie in ilka burgh will just do as weel, cousin

Nicol--So, gude-night or gude-morning to ye; and forget not the Clachan

of Aberfoil."

And without waiting for an answer, he sprung to the other side of the

street, and was lost in darkness. Immediately on his disappearance, we

heard him give a low whistle of peculiar modulation, which was instantly

replied to.

"Hear to the Hieland deevils," said Mr. Jarvie; "they think themselves on

the skirts of Benlomond already, where they may gang whewingand whistling

about without minding Sunday or Saturday." Here he was interrupted by

something which fell with a heavy clash on the street before us--"Gude

guide us what's this mair o't?--Mattie, haud up the lantern--Conscience

if it isna the keys!--Weel, that's just as weel--they cost the burgh

siller, and there might hae been some clavers about the loss o' them. O,

an Bailie Grahame were to get word o' this night's job, it would be a

sair hair in my neck!"

As we were still but a few steps from the tolbooth door, we carried back

these implements of office, and consigned them to the head jailor, who,

in lieu of the usual mode of making good his post by turning the keys,

was keeping sentry in the vestibule till the arrival of some assistant,

whom he had summoned in order to replace the Celtic fugitive Dougal.

Having discharged this piece of duty to the burgh, and my road lying the

same way with the honest magistrate's, I profited by the light of his

lantern, and he by my arm, to find our way through the streets, which,

whatever they may now be, were then dark, uneven, and ill-paved. Age is

easily propitiated by attentions from the young. The Bailie expressed

himself interested in me, and added, "That since I was nane o' that

play-acting and play-ganging generation, whom his saul hated, he wad be

glad if I wad eat a reisted haddock or a fresh herring, at breakfast wi'

him the morn, and meet my friend, Mr. Owen, whom, by that time, he would

place at liberty."

"My dear sir," said I, when I had accepted of the invitation with thanks,

"how could you possibly connect me with the stage?"

"I watna," replied Mr. Jarvie;--"it was a bletherin' phrasin' chield they

ca' Fairservice, that cam at e'en to get an order to send the crier

through the toun for ye at skreigh o' day the morn. He tell't me whae ye

were, and how ye were sent frae your father's house because ye wadna be a

dealer, and that ye mightna disgrace your family wi' ganging on the

stage. Ane Hammorgaw, our precentor, brought him here, and said he was an

auld acquaintance; but I sent them both away wi' a flae in their lug for

bringing me sic an errand, on sic a night. But I see he's a fule-creature

a'thegither, and clean mistaen about ye. I like ye, man," he continued;

"I like a lad that will stand by his friends in trouble--I aye did it

mysell, and sae did the deacon my father, rest and bless him! But ye

suldna keep ower muckle company wi' Hielandmen and thae wild cattle. Can

a man touch pitch and no be defiled?--aye mind that. Nae doubt, the best

and wisest may err--Once, twice, and thrice have I backslidden, man, and

dune three things this night--my father wadna hae believed his een if he

could hae looked up and seen me do them."

He was by this time arrived at the door of his own dwelling. He paused,

however, on the threshold, and went on in a solemn tone of deep

contrition,--"Firstly, I hae thought my ain thoughts on the

Sabbath--secondly, I hae gi'en security for an Englishman--and, in the

third and last place, well-a-day! I hae let an ill-doer escape from the

place of imprisonment--But there's balm in Gilead, Mr. Osbaldistone--

Mattie, I can let mysell in--see Mr. Osbaldistone to Luckie Flyter's, at

the corner o' the wynd.--Mr. Osbaldistone"--in a whisper--"ye'll offer

nae incivility to Mattie--she's an honest man's daughter, and a near

cousin o' the Laird

o' Limmerfield's."

CHAPTER SEVENTH.

"Will it please your worship to accept of my poor service? I beseech

that I may feed upon your bread, though it be the brownest, and

drink of your drink, though it be of the smallest; for I will do

your Worship as much service for forty shillings as another man

shall for three pounds."

Greene's _Tu Quoque._

I remembered the honest Bailie's parting charge, but did not conceive

there was any incivility in adding a kiss to the half-crown with which I

remunerated Mattie's attendance;--nor did her "Fie for shame, sir!"

express any very deadly resentment of the affront. Repeated knocking at

Mrs. Flyter's gate awakened in due order, first, one or two stray dogs,

who began to bark with all their might; next two or three night-capped

heads, which were thrust out of the neighbouring windows to reprehend me

for disturbing the solemnity of the Sunday night by that untimely noise.

While I trembled lest the thunders of their wrath might dissolve in

showers like that of Xantippe, Mrs. Flyter herself awoke, and began, in a

tone of objurgation not unbecoming the philosophical spouse of Socrates,

to scold one or two loiterers in her kitchen, for not hastening to the

door to prevent a repetition of my noisy summons.

These worthies were, indeed, nearly concerned in the fracas which their

laziness occasioned, being no other than the faithful Mr. Fairservice,

with his friend Mr. Hammorgaw, and another person, whom I afterwards

found to be the town-crier, who were sitting over a cog of ale, as they

called it (at my expense, as my bill afterwards informed me), in order to

devise the terms and style of a proclamation to be made through the

streets the next day, in order that "the unfortunate young gentleman," as

they had the impudence to qualify me, might be restored to his friends

without farther delay. It may be supposed that I did not suppress my

displeasure at this impertinent interference with my affairs; but Andrew

set up such ejaculations of transport at my arrival, as fairly drowned my

expressions of resentment. His raptures, perchance, were partly

political; and the tears of joy which he shed had certainly their source

in that noble fountain of emotion, the tankard. However, the tumultuous

glee which he felt, or pretended to feel, at my return, saved Andrew the

broken head which I had twice destined him;--first, on account of the

colloquy he had held with the precentor on my affairs; and secondly, for

the impertinent history he had thought proper to give of me to Mr.

Jarvie. I however contented myself with slapping the door of my bedroom

in his face as he followed me, praising Heaven for my safe return, and

mixing his joy with admonitions to me to take care how I walked my own

ways in future. I then went to bed, resolving my first business in the

morning should be to discharge this troublesome, pedantic, self-conceited

coxcomb, who seemed so much disposed to constitute himself rather a

preceptor than a domestic.

Accordingly in the morning I resumed my purpose, and calling Andrew into

my, apartment, requested to know his charge for guiding and attending me

as far as Glasgow. Mr. Fairservice looked very blank at this demand,

justly considering it as a presage to approaching dismission.

"Your honour," he said, after some hesitation, "wunna think--wunna

think"--

"Speak out, you rascal, or I'll break your head," said I, as Andrew,

between the double risk of losing all by asking too much, or a part, by

stating his demand lower than what I might be willing to pay, stood

gasping in the agony of doubt and calculation.

Out it came with a bolt, however, at my threat; as the kind violence of a

blow on the back sometimes delivers the windpipe from an intrusive

morsel.--"Aughteen pennies sterling per diem--that is, by the day--your

honour wadna think unconscionable."

"It is double what is usual, and treble what you merit, Andrew; but

there's a guinea for you, and get about your business."

"The Lord forgi'e us! Is your honour mad?" exclaimed Andrew.

"No; but I think you mean to make me so--I give you a third above your

demand, and you stand staring and expostulating there as if I were

cheating you. Take your money, and go about your business."

"Gude safe us!" continued Andrew, "in what can I hae offended your

honour? Certainly a' flesh is but as the flowers of the field; but if a

bed of camomile hath value in medicine, of a surety the use of Andrew

Fairservice to your honour is nothing less evident--it's as muckle as

your life's worth to part wi' me."

"Upon my honour," replied I, "it is difficult to say whether you are more

knave or fool. So you intend then to remain with me whether I like it or

no?"

"Troth, I was e'en thinking sae," replied Andrew, dogmatically; "for if

your honour disna ken when ye hae a gude servant, I ken when I hae a gude

master, and the deil be in my feet gin I leave ye--and there's the brief

and the lang o't besides I hae received nae regular warning to quit my

place."

"Your place, sir!" said I;--"why, you are no hired servant of mine,--you

are merely a guide, whose knowledge of the country I availed myself of on

my road."

"I am no just a common servant, I admit, sir," remonstrated Mr.

Fairservice; "but your honour kens I quitted a gude place at an hour's

notice, to comply wi' your honour's solicitations. A man might make

honestly, and wi' a clear conscience, twenty sterling pounds per annum,

weel counted siller, o' the garden at Osbaldistone Hall, and I wasna

likely to gi'e up a' that for a guinea, I trow--I reckoned on staying wi'

your honour to the term's end at the least o't; and I account my wage,

board-wage, fee and bountith,--ay, to that length o't at the least."

"Come, come, sir," replied I, "these impudent pretensions won't serve

your turn; and if I hear any more of them, I shall convince you that

Squire Thorncliff is not the only one of my name that can use his

fingers."

While I spoke thus, the whole matter struck me as so ridiculous, that,

though really angry, I had some difficulty to forbear laughing at the

gravity with which Andrew supported a plea so utterly extravagant. The

rascal, aware of the impression he had made on my muscles, was encouraged

to perseverance. He judged it safer, however, to take his pretensions a

peg lower, in case of overstraining at the same time both his plea and my

patience.

"Admitting that my honour could part with a faithful servant, that had

served me and mine by day and night for twenty years, in a strange place,

and at a moment's warning, he was weel assured," he said, "it wasna in my

heart, nor in no true gentleman's, to pit a puir lad like himself, that

had come forty or fifty, or say a hundred miles out o' his road purely to

bear my honour company, and that had nae handing but his penny-fee, to

sic a hardship as this comes to."

I think it was you, Will, who once told me, that, to be an obstinate man,

I am in certain things the most gullable and malleable of mortals. The

fact is, that it is only contradiction which makes me peremptory, and

when I do not feel myself called on to give battle to any proposition, I

am always willing to grant it, rather than give myself much trouble. I

knew this fellow to be a greedy, tiresome, meddling coxcomb; still,

however, I must have some one about me in the quality of guide and

domestic, and I was so much used to Andrew's humour, that on some

occasions it was rather amusing. In the state of indecision to which

these reflections led me, I asked Fairservice if he knew the roads,

towns, etc., in the north of Scotland, to which my father's concerns with

the proprietors of Highland forests were likely to lead me. I believe if

I had asked him the road to the terrestrial paradise, he would have at

that moment undertaken to guide me to it; so that I had reason afterwards

to think myself fortunate in finding that his actual knowledge did not

fall very much short of that which he asserted himself to possess. I

fixed the amount of his wages, and reserved to myself the privilege of

dismissing him when I chose, on paying him a week in advance. I gave him

finally a severe lecture on his conduct of the preceding day, and then

dismissed him rejoicing at heart, though somewhat crestfallen in

countenance, to rehearse to his friend the precentor, who was taking his

morning draught in the kitchen, the mode in which he had "cuitled up the

daft young English squire."

Agreeable to appointment, I went next to Bailie Nicol Jarvie's, where a

comfortable morning's repast was arranged in the parlour, which served as

an apartment of all hours, and almost all work, to that honest gentleman.

The bustling and benevolent magistrate had been as good as his word. I

found my friend Owen at liberty, and, conscious of the refreshments and

purification of brush and basin, was of course a very different person

from Owen a prisoner, squalid, heart-broken, and hopeless. Yet the sense

of pecuniary difficulties arising behind, before, and around him, had

depressed his spirit, and the almost paternal embrace which the good man

gave me, was embittered by a sigh of the deepest anxiety. And when he

sate down, the heaviness in his eye and manner, so different from the

quiet composed satisfaction which they usually exhibited, indicated that

he was employing his arithmetic in mentally numbering up the days, the

hours, the minutes, which yet remained as an interval between the

dishonour of bills and the downfall of the great commercial establishment

of Osbaldistone and Tresham. It was left to me, therefore, to do honour

to our landlord's hospitable cheer--to his tea, right from China, which

he got in a present from some eminent ship's-husband at Wapping--to his

coffee, from a snug plantation of his own, as he informed us with a wink,

called Saltmarket Grove, in the island of Jamaica--to his English toast

and ale, his Scotch dried salmon, his Lochfine herrings, and even to the

double-damask table-cloth, "wrought by no hand, as you may guess," save

that of his deceased father the worthy Deacon Jarvie.

Having conciliated our good-humoured host by those little attentions

which are great to most men, I endeavoured in my turn to gain from him

some information which might be useful for my guidance, as well as for

the satisfaction of my curiosity. We had not hitherto made the least

allusion to the transactions of the preceding night, a circumstance which

made my question sound somewhat abrupt, when, without any previous

introduction of the subject, I took advantage of a pause when the history

of the table-cloth ended, and that of the napkins was about to commence,

to inquire, "Pray, by the by, Mr. Jarvie, who may this Mr. Robert

Campbell be, whom we met with last night?"

The interrogatory seemed to strike the honest magistrate, to use the

vulgar phrase, "all of a heap," and instead of answering, he returned the

question--"Whae's Mr. Robert Campbell?--ahem! ahay! Whae's Mr. Robert

Campbell, quo' he?"

"Yes," said I, "I mean who and what is he?"

"Why, he's--ahay!--he's--ahem!--Where did ye meet with Mr. Robert

Campbell, as ye ca' him?"

"I met him by chance," I replied, "some months ago in the north of

England."

"Ou then, Mr. Osbaldistone," said the Bailie, doggedly, "ye'll ken as

muckle about him as I do."

"I should suppose not, Mr. Jarvie," I replied;--"you are his relation, it

seems, and his friend."

"There is some cousin-red between us, doubtless," said the Bailie

reluctantly; "but we hae seen little o' ilk other since Rob gae tip the

cattle-line o' dealing, poor fallow! he was hardly guided by them might

hae used him better--and they haena made their plack a bawbee o't

neither. There's mony ane this day wad rather they had never chased puir

Robin frae the Cross o' Glasgow--there's mony ane wad rather see him

again at the tale o' three hundred kyloes, than at the head o' thirty

waur cattle."

"All this explains nothing to me, Mr. Jarvie, of Mr. Campbell's rank,

habits of life, and means of subsistence," I replied.

"Rank?" said Mr. Jarvie; "he's a Hieland gentleman, nae doubt--better

rank need nane to be;--and for habit, I judge he wears the Hieland habit

amang the hills, though he has breeks on when he comes to Glasgow;--and

as for his subsistence, what needs we care about his subsistence, sae

lang as he asks naething frae us, ye ken? But I hae nae time for

clavering about him e'en now, because we maun look into your father's

concerns wi' all speed."

So saying, he put on his spectacles, and sate down to examine Mr. Owen's

states, which the other thought it most prudent to communicate to him

without reserve. I knew enough of business to be aware that nothing could

be more acute and sagacious than the views which Mr. Jarvie entertained

of the matters submitted to his examination; and, to do him justice, it

was marked by much fairness, and even liberality. He scratched his ear

indeed repeatedly on observing the balance which stood at the debit of

Osbaldistone and Tresham in account with himself personally.

"It may be a dead loss," he observed; "and, conscience! whate'er ane o'

your Lombard Street goldsmiths may say to it, it's a snell ane in the

Saut-Market* o' Glasgow. It will be a heavy deficit--a staff out o' my

bicker, I trow.

* [The Saltmarket. This ancient street, situate in the heart of Glasgow,

has of late been almost entirely renovated.]

But what then?--I trust the house wunna coup the crane for a' that's come

and gane yet; and if it does, I'll never bear sae base a mind as thae

corbies in the Gallowgate--an I am to lose by ye, I'se ne'er deny I hae

won by ye mony a fair pund sterling--Sae, an it come to the warst, I'se

een lay the head o' the sow to the tail o' the grice."*

* _Anglice,_ the head of the sow to the tail of the pig.

I did not altogether understand the proverbial arrangement with which Mr.

Jarvie consoled himself, but I could easily see that he took a kind and

friendly interest in the arrangement of my father's affairs, suggested

several expedients, approved several plans proposed by Owen, and by his

countenance and counsel greatly abated the gloom upon the brow of that

afflicted delegate of my father's establishment.

As I was an idle spectator on this occasion, and, perhaps, as I showed

some inclination more than once to return to the prohibited, and

apparently the puzzling subject of Mr. Campbell, Mr. Jarvie dismissed me

with little formality, with an advice to "gang up the gate to the

college, where I wad find some chields could speak Greek and Latin

weel--at least they got plenty o' siller for doing deil haet else, if they

didna do that; and where I might read a spell o' the worthy Mr. Zachary

Boyd's translation o' the Scriptures--better poetry need nane to be, as

he had been tell'd by them that ken'd or suld hae ken'd about sic

things." But he seasoned this dismission with a kind and hospitable

invitation "to come back and take part o' his family-chack at ane

preceesely--there wad be a leg o' mutton, and, it might be, a tup's head,

for they were in season;" but above all, I was to return at "ane o'clock

preceesely--it was the hour he and the deacon his father aye dined

at--they pat it off for naething nor for naebody."

CHAPTER EIGHTH.

So stands the Thracian herdsman with his spear

Full in the gap, and hopes the hunted bear;

And hears him in the rustling wood, and sees

His course at distance by the bending trees,

And thinks--Here comes my mortal enemy,

And either he must fall in fight, or I.

Palamon and Arcite.

I took the route towards the college, as recommended by Mr. Jarvie, less

with the intention of seeking for any object of interest or amusement,

than to arrange my own ideas, and meditate on my future conduct. I

wandered from one quadrangle of old-fashioned buildings to another, and

from thence to the College-yards, or walking ground, where, pleased with

the solitude of the place, most of the students being engaged in their

classes, I took several turns, pondering on the waywardness of my own

destiny.

I could not doubt, from the circumstances attending my first meeting with

this person Campbell, that he was engaged in some strangely desperate

courses; and the reluctance with which Mr. Jarvie alluded to his person

or pursuits, as well as all the scene of the preceding night, tended to

confirm these suspicions. Yet to this man Diana Vernon had not, it would

seem, hesitated to address herself in my behalf; and the conduct of the

magistrate himself towards him showed an odd mixture of kindness, and

even respect, with pity and censure. Something there must be uncommon in

Campbell's situation and character; and what was still more

extraordinary, it seemed that his fate was doomed to have influence over,

and connection with, my own. I resolved to bring Mr. Jarvie to close

quarters on the first proper opportunity, and learn as much as was

possible on the subject of this mysterious person, in order that I might

judge whether it was possible for me, without prejudice to my reputation,

to hold that degree of farther correspondence with him to which he seemed

to invite.

While I was musing on these subjects, my attention was attracted by three

persons who appeared at the upper end of the walk through which I was

sauntering, seemingly engaged in very earnest conversation. That

intuitive impression which announces to us the approach of whomsoever we

love or hate with intense vehemence, long before a more indifferent eye

can recognise their persons, flashed upon my mind the sure conviction

that the midmost of these three men was Rashleigh Osbaldistone. To

address him was my first impulse;--my second was, to watch him until he

was alone, or at least to reconnoitre his companions before confronting

him. The party was still at such distance, and engaged in such deep

discourse, that I had time to step unobserved to the other side of a

small hedge, which imperfectly screened the alley in which I was walking.

It was at this period the fashion of the young and gay to wear, in their

morning walks, a scarlet cloak, often laced and embroidered, above their

other dress, and it was the trick of the time for gallants occasionally

to dispose it so as to muffle a part of the face. The imitating this

fashion, with the degree of shelter which I received from the hedge,

enabled me to meet my cousin, unobserved by him or the others, except

perhaps as a passing stranger. I was not a little startled at recognising

in his companions that very Morris on whose account I had been summoned

before Justice Inglewood, and Mr. MacVittie the merchant, from whose

starched and severe aspect I had recoiled on the preceding day.

A more ominous conjunction to my own affairs, and those of my father,

could scarce have been formed. I remembered Morris's false accusation

against me, which he might be as easily induced to renew as he had been

intimidated to withdraw; I recollected the inauspicious influence of

MacVittie over my father's affairs, testified by the imprisonment of

Owen;--and I now saw both these men combined with one, whose talent for

mischief I deemed little inferior to those of the great author of all

ill, and my abhorrence of whom almost amounted to dread.

When they had passed me for some paces, I turned and followed them

unobserved. At the end of the walk they separated, Morris and MacVittie

leaving the gardens, and Rashleigh returning alone through the walks. I

was now determined to confront him, and demand reparation for the

injuries he had done my father, though in what form redress was likely to

be rendered remained to be known. This, however, I trusted to chance; and

flinging back the cloak in which I was muffled, I passed through a gap of

the low hedge, and presented myself before Rashleigh, as, in a deep

reverie, he paced down the avenue.

Rashleigh was no man to be surprised or thrown off his guard by sudden

occurrences. Yet he did not find me thus close to him, wearing

undoubtedly in my face the marks of that indignation which was glowing in

my bosom, without visibly starting at an apparition so sudden and

menacing.

"You are well met, sir," was my commencement; "I was about to take a long

and doubtful journey in quest of you."

"You know little of him you sought then," replied Rashleigh, with his

usual undaunted composure. "I am easily found by my friends--still more

easily by my foes;--your manner compels me to ask in which class I must

rank Mr. Francis Osbaldistone?"

"In that of your foes, sir," I answered--"in that of your mortal foes,

unless you instantly do justice to your benefactor, my father, by

accounting for his property."

"And to whom, Mr. Osbaldistone," answered Rashleigh, "am I, a member of

your father's commercial establishment, to be compelled to give any

account of my proceedings in those concerns, which are in every respect

identified with my own?--Surely not to a young gentleman whose exquisite

taste for literature would render such discussions disgusting and

unintelligible."

"Your sneer, sir, is no answer; I will not part with you until I have

full satisfaction concerning the fraud you meditate--you shall go with me

before a magistrate."

"Be it so," said Rashleigh, and made a step or two as if to accompany me;

then pausing, proceeded--"Were I inclined to do so as you would have me,

you should soon feel which of us had most reason to dread the presence of

a magistrate. But I have no wish to accelerate your fate. Go, young man!

amuse yourself in your world of poetical imaginations, and leave the

business of life to those who understand and can conduct it."

His intention, I believe, was to provoke me, and he succeeded. "Mr.

Osbaldistone," I said, "this tone of calm insolence shall not avail you.

You ought to be aware that the name we both bear never submitted to

insult, and shall not in my person be exposed to it."

"You remind me," said Rashleigh, with one of his blackest looks, "that it

was dishonoured in my person!--and you remind me also by whom! Do you

think I have forgotten the evening at Osbaldistone Hall when you cheaply

and with impunity played the bully at my expense? For that insult--never

to be washed out but by blood!--for the various times you have crossed my

path, and always to my prejudice--for the persevering folly with which

you seek to traverse schemes, the importance of which you neither know

nor are capable of estimating,--for all these, sir, you owe me a long

account, for which there shall come an early day of reckoning."

"Let it come when it will," I replied, "I shall be willing and ready to

meet it. Yet you seem to have forgotten the heaviest article--that I had

the pleasure to aid Miss Vernon's good sense and virtuous feeling in

extricating her from your infamous toils."

I think his dark eyes flashed actual fire at this home-taunt, and yet his

voice retained the same calm expressive tone with which he had hitherto

conducted the conversation.

"I had other views with respect to you, young man," was his answer: "less

hazardous for you, and more suitable to my present character and former

education. But I see you will draw on yourself the personal chastisement

your boyish insolence so well merits. Follow me to a more remote spot,

where we are less likely to be interrupted."

I followed him accordingly, keeping a strict eye on his motions, for I

believed him capable of the very worst actions. We reached an open spot

in a sort of wilderness, laid out in the Dutch taste, with clipped

hedges, and one or two statues. I was on my guard, and it was well with

me that I was so; for Rashleigh's sword was out and at my breast ere I

could throw down my cloak, or get my weapon unsheathed, so that I only

saved my life by springing a pace or two backwards. He had some advantage

in the difference of our weapons; for his sword, as I recollect, was

longer than mine, and had one of those bayonet or three-cornered blades

which are now generally worn; whereas mine was what we then called a

Saxon blade--narrow, flat, and two-edged, and scarcely so manageable as

that of my enemy. In other respects we were pretty equally matched: for

what advantage I might possess in superior address and agility, was fully

counterbalanced by Rashleigh's great strength and coolness. He fought,

indeed, more like a fiend than a man--with concentrated spite and desire

of blood, only allayed by that cool consideration which made his worst

actions appear yet worse from the air of deliberate premeditation which

seemed to accompany them. His obvious malignity of purpose never for a

moment threw him off his guard, and he exhausted every feint and

stratagem proper to the science of defence; while, at the same time, he

meditated the most desperate catastrophe to our rencounter.

On my part, the combat was at first sustained with more moderation. My

passions, though hasty, were not malevolent; and the walk of two or three

minutes' space gave me time to reflect that Rashleigh was my father's

nephew, the son of an uncle, who after his fashion had been kind to me,

and that his falling by my hand could not but occasion much family

distress. My first resolution, therefore, was to attempt to disarm my

antagonist--a manoeuvre in which, confiding in my superiority of skill

and practice, I anticipated little difficulty. I found, however, I had

met my match; and one or two foils which I received, and from the

consequences of which I narrowly escaped, obliged me to observe more

caution in my mode of fighting. By degrees I became exasperated at the

rancour with which Rashleigh sought my life, and returned his passes with

an inveteracy resembling in some degree his own; so that the combat had

all the appearance of being destined to have a tragic issue. That issue

had nearly taken place at my expense. My foot slipped in a full lounge

which I made at my adversary, and I could not so far recover myself as

completely to parry the thrust with which my pass was repaid. Yet it took

but partial effect, running through my waistcoat, grazing my ribs, and

passing through my coat behind. The hilt of Rashleigh's sword, so great

was the vigour of his thrust, struck against my breast with such force as

to give me great pain, and confirm me in the momentary belief that I was

mortally wounded. Eager for revenge, I grappled with my enemy, seizing

with my left hand the hilt of his sword, and shortening my own with the

purpose of running him through the body. Our death-grapple was

interrupted by a man who forcibly threw himself between us, and pushing

us separate from each other, exclaimed, in a loud and commanding voice,

"What! the sons of those fathers who sucked the same breast shedding each

others bluid as it were strangers'!--By the hand of my father, I will

cleave to the brisket the first man that mints another stroke!"

I looked up in astonishment. The speaker was no other than Campbell. He

had a basket-hilted broadsword drawn in his hand, which he made to

whistle around his head as he spoke, as if for the purpose of enforcing

his mediation. Rashleigh and I stared in silence at this unexpected

intruder, who proceeded to exhort us alternately:--"Do you, Maister

Francis, opine that ye will re-establish your father's credit by cutting

your kinsman's thrapple, or getting your ain sneckit instead thereof in

the College-yards of Glasgow?--Or do you, Mr Rashleigh, think men will

trust their lives and fortunes wi' ane, that, when in point of trust and

in point of confidence wi' a great political interest, gangs about

brawling like a drunken gillie?--Nay, never look gash or grim at me,

man--if ye're angry, ye ken how to turn the buckle o' your belt behind

you."

"You presume on my present situation," replied Rashleigh, "or you would

have hardly dared to interfere where my honour is concerned."

[Illustration: Rob Roy Parting the Duelists--100]

"Hout! tout! tout!--Presume? And what for should it be presuming?--Ye may

be the richer man, Mr. Osbaldistone, as is maist likely; and ye may be

the mair learned man, whilk I dispute not: but I reckon ye are neither a

prettier man nor a better gentleman than mysell--and it will be news to

me when I hear ye are as gude. And _dare_ too? Muckle daring there's

about it--I trow, here I stand, that hae slashed as het a haggis as ony

o' the twa o' ye, and thought nae muckle o' my morning's wark when it was

dune. If my foot were on the heather as it's on the causeway, or this

pickle gravel, that's little better, I hae been waur mistrysted than if I

were set to gie ye baith your ser'ing o't."

Rashleigh had by this time recovered his temper completely. "My kinsman,"

he said, "will acknowledge he forced this quarrel on me. It was none of

my seeking. I am glad we are interrupted before I chastised his

forwardness more severely."

"Are ye hurt, lad?" inquired Campbell of me, with some appearance of

interest.

"A very slight scratch," I answered, "which my kind cousin would not long

have boasted of had not you come between us."

"In troth, and that's true, Maister Rashleigh," said Campbell; "for the

cauld iron and your best bluid were like to hae become acquaint when I

mastered Mr. Frank's right hand. But never look like a sow playing upon a

trump for the luve of that, man--come and walk wi' me. I hae news to tell

ye, and ye'll cool and come to yourself, like MacGibbon's crowdy, when he

set it out at the window-bole."

"Pardon me, sir," said I. "Your intentions have seemed friendly to me on

more occasions than one; but I must not, and will not, quit sight of this

person until he yields up to me those means of doing justice to my

father's engagements, of which he has treacherously possessed himself."

"Ye're daft, man," replied Campbell; "it will serve ye naething to follow

us e'enow; ye hae just enow o' ae man--wad ye bring twa on your head, and

might bide quiet?"

"Twenty," I replied, "if it be necessary."

I laid my hand on Rashleigh's collar, who made no resistance, but said,

with a sort of scornful smile, "You hear him, MacGregor! he rushes on his

fate--will it be my fault if he falls into it?--The warrants are by this

time ready, and all is prepared."

The Scotchman was obviously embarrassed. He looked around, and before,

and behind him, and then said--"The ne'er a bit will I yield my consent

to his being ill-guided for standing up for the father that got him--and

I gie God's malison and mine to a' sort o' magistrates, justices,

bailies., sheriffs, sheriff-officers, constables, and sic-like black

cattle, that hae been the plagues o' puir auld Scotland this hunder

year.--it was a merry warld when every man held his ain gear wi' his ain

grip, and when the country side wasna fashed wi' warrants and poindings

and apprizings, and a' that cheatry craft. And ance mair I say it, my

conscience winna see this puir thoughtless lad ill-guided, and especially

wi' that sort o' trade. I wad rather ye fell till't again, and fought it

out like douce honest men."

"Your conscience, MacGregor!" said Rashleigh; "you forget how long you

and I have known each other."

"Yes, my conscience," reiterated Campbell, or MacGregor, or whatever was

his name; "I hae such a thing about me, Maister Osbaldistone; and therein

it may weel chance that I hae the better o' you. As to our knowledge of

each other,--if ye ken what I am, ye ken what usage it was made me what I

am; and, whatever you may think, I would not change states with the

proudest of the oppressors that hae driven me to tak the heather-bush for

a beild. What _you_ are, Maister Rashleigh, and what excuse ye hae for

being _what_ you are, is between your ain heart and the lang day.--And

now, Maister Francis, let go his collar; for he says truly, that ye are

in mair danger from a magistrate than he is, and were your cause as

straight as an arrow, he wad find a way to put you wrang--So let go his

craig, as I was saying."

He seconded his words with an effort so sudden and unexpected, that he

freed Rashleigh from my hold, and securing me, notwithstanding my

struggles, in his own Herculean gripe, he called out--"Take the bent, Mr.

Rashleigh--Make ae pair o' legs worth twa pair o' hands; ye hae dune that

before now."

"You may thank this gentleman, kinsman," said Rashleigh, "if I leave any

part of my debt to you unpaid; and if I quit you now, it is only in the

hope we shall soon meet again without the possibility of interruption."

He took up his sword, wiped it, sheathed it, and was lost among the

bushes.

The Scotchman, partly by force, partly by remonstrance, prevented my

following him; indeed I began to be of opinion my doing so would be to

little purpose.

"As I live by bread," said Campbell, when, after one or two struggles in

which he used much forbearance towards me, he perceived me inclined to

stand quiet, "I never saw sae daft a callant! I wad hae gien the best man

in the country the breadth o' his back gin he had gien me sic a kemping

as ye hae dune. What wad ye do?--Wad ye follow the wolf to his den? I

tell ye, man, he has the auld trap set for ye--He has got the

collector-creature Morris to bring up a' the auld story again,

and ye maun look for nae help frae me here, as ye got at Justice

Inglewood's;--it isna good for my health to come in the gate o' the

whigamore bailie bodies. Now gang your ways hame, like a gude

bairn--jouk and let the jaw gae by--Keep out o' sight o' Rashleigh, and

Morris, and that MacVittie animal--Mind the Clachan of Aberfoil, as I

said before, and by the word of a gentleman, I wunna see ye wranged. But

keep a calm sough till we meet again--I maun gae and get Rashleigh out

o' the town afore waur comes o't, for the neb o' him's never out o'

mischief--Mind the Clachan of Aberfoil."

He turned upon his heel, and left me to meditate on the singular events

which had befallen me. My first care was to adjust my dress and reassume

my cloak, disposing it so as to conceal the blood which flowed down my

right side. I had scarcely accomplished this, when, the classes of the

college being dismissed, the gardens began to be filled with parties of

the students. I therefore left them as soon as possible; and in my way

towards Mr. Jarvie's, whose dinner hour was now approaching, I stopped at

a small unpretending shop, the sign of which intimated the indweller to

be Christopher Neilson, surgeon and apothecary. I requested of a little

boy who was pounding some stuff in a mortar, that he would procure me an

audience of this learned pharmacopolist. He opened the door of the back

shop, where I found a lively elderly man, who shook his head

incredulously at some idle account I gave him of having been wounded

accidentally by the button breaking off my antagonist's foil while I was

engaged in a fencing match. When he had applied some lint and somewhat

else he thought proper to the trifling wound I had received, he

observed--"There never was button on the foil that made this hurt. Ah!

young blood! young blood!--But we surgeons are a secret generation--If

it werena for hot blood and ill blood, what wad become of the twa

learned faculties?"

With which moral reflection he dismissed me; and I experienced very

little pain or inconvenience afterwards from the scratch I had received.

CHAPTER NINTH.

An iron race the mountain-cliffs maintain,

Foes to the gentler genius of the plain.

*******

Who while their rocky ramparts round they see,

The rough abode of want and liberty,

As lawless force from confidence will grow,

Insult the plenty of the vales below.

Gray.

"What made ye sae late?" said Mr. Jarvie, as I entered the dining-parlour

of that honest gentleman; "it is chappit ane the best feek o' five

minutes by-gane. Mattie has been twice at the door wi' the dinner, and

weel for you it was a tup's head, for that canna suffer by delay. A

sheep's head ower muckle boiled is rank poison, as my worthy father used

to say--he likit the lug o' ane weel, honest man."

I made a suitable apology for my breach of punctuality, and was soon

seated at table, where Mr. Jarvie presided with great glee and

hospitality, compelling, however, Owen and myself to do rather more

justice to the Scottish dainties with which his board was charged, than

was quite agreeable to our southern palates. I escaped pretty well, from

having those habits of society which enable one to elude this species of

well-meant persecution. But it was ridiculous enough to see Owen, whose

ideas of politeness were more rigorous and formal, and who was willing,

in all acts of lawful compliance, to evince his respect for the friend of

the firm, eating with rueful complaisance mouthful after mouthful of

singed wool, and pronouncing it excellent, in a tone in which disgust

almost overpowered civility.

When the cloth was removed, Mr. Jarvie compounded with his own hands a

very small bowl of brandy-punch, the first which I had ever the fortune

to see.

"The limes," he assured us, "were from his own little farm yonder-awa"

(indicating the West Indies with a knowing shrug of his shoulders), "and

he had learned the art of composing the liquor from auld Captain

Coffinkey, who acquired it," he added in a whisper, "'as maist folk

thought, among the Buccaniers. But it's excellent liquor," said he,

helping us round; "and good ware has aften come frae a wicked market. And

as for Captain Coffinkey, he was a decent man when I kent him, only he

used to swear awfully--But he's dead, and gaen to his account, and I

trust he's accepted--I trust he's accepted."

We found the liquor exceedingly palatable, and it led to a long

conversation between Owen and our host on the opening which the Union had

afforded to trade between Glasgow and the British Colonies in America and

the West Indies, and on the facilities which Glasgow possessed of making

up sortable cargoes for that market. Mr. Jarvie answered some objection

which Owen made on the difficulty of sorting a cargo for America, without

buying from England, with vehemence and volubility.

"Na, na, sir, we stand on our ain bottom--we pickle in our ain

pock-neuk--We hae our Stirling serges, Musselburgh stuffs, Aberdeen hose,

Edinburgh shalloons, and the like, for our woollen or worsted goods--and

we hae linens of a' kinds better and cheaper than you hae in Lunnon

itsell--and we can buy your north o' England wares, as Manchester wares,

Sheffield wares, and Newcastle earthenware, as cheap as you can at

Liverpool--And we are making a fair spell at cottons and muslins--Na, na!

let every herring hing by its ain head, and every sheep by its ain shank,

and ye'll find, sir, us Glasgow folk no sae far ahint but what we may

follow.--This is but poor entertainment for you, Mr. Osbaldistone"

(observing that I had been for some time silent); "but ye ken cadgers

maun aye be speaking about cart-saddles."

I apologised, alleging the painful circumstances of my own situation, and

the singular adventures of the morning, as the causes of my abstraction

and absence of mind. In this manner I gained what I sought--an

opportunity of telling my story distinctly and without interruption. I

only omitted mentioning the wound I had received, which I did not think

worthy of notice. Mr. Jarvie listened with great attention and apparent

interest, twinkling his little grey eyes, taking snuff, and only

interrupting me by brief interjections. When I came to the account of the

rencounter, at which Owen folded his hands and cast up his eyes to

Heaven, the very image of woeful surprise, Mr. Jarvie broke in upon the

narration with "Wrang now--clean wrang--to draw a sword on your kinsman

is inhibited by the laws o' God and man; and to draw a sword on the

streets of a royal burgh is punishable by fine and imprisonment--and the

College-yards are nae better privileged--they should be a place of peace

and quietness, I trow. The College didna get gude L600 a year out o'

bishops' rents (sorrow fa' the brood o' bishops and their rents too!),

nor yet a lease o' the archbishopric o' Glasgow the sell o't, that they

suld let folk tuilzie in their yards, or the wild callants bicker there

wi' snaw-ba's as they whiles do, that when Mattie and I gae through, we

are fain to make a baik and a bow, or run the risk o' our harns being

knocked out--it suld be looked to.*--But come awa'wi' your tale--what

fell neist?"

* The boys in Scotland used formerly to make a sort of Saturnalia in a

snow-storm, by pelting passengers with snowballs. But those exposed to

that annoyance were excused from it on the easy penalty of a baik

(courtesy) from a female, or a bow from a man. It was only the refractory

who underwent the storm.

On my mentioning the appearance of Mr. Campbell, Jarvie arose in great

surprise, and paced the room, exclaiming, "Robin again!--Robert's

mad--clean wud, and waur--Rob will be hanged, and disgrace a' his

kindred, and that will be seen and heard tell o'. My father the deacon

wrought him his first hose--Od, I am thinking Deacon Threeplie, the

rape-spinner, will be twisting his last cravat. Ay, ay, puir Robin is in

a fair way o' being hanged--But come awa', come awa'--let's hear the

lave o't."

I told the whole story as pointedly as I could; but Mr. Jarvie still

found something lacking to make it clear, until I went back, though with

considerable reluctance, on the whole story of Morris, and of my meeting

with Campbell at the house of Justice Inglewood. Mr. Jarvie inclined a

serious ear to all this, and remained silent for some time after I had

finished my narrative.

"Upon all these matters I am now to ask your advice, Mr. Jarvie, which, I

have no doubt, will point out the best way to act for my father's

advantage and my own honour."

"Ye're right, young man--ye're right," said the Bailie. "Aye take the

counsel of those who are aulder and wiser than yourself, and binna like

the godless Rehoboam, who took the advice o' a wheen beardless callants,

neglecting the auld counsellors who had sate at the feet o' his father

Solomon, and, as it was weel put by Mr. Meiklejohn, in his lecture on the

chapter, were doubtless partakers of his sapience. But I maun hear

naething about honour--we ken naething here but about credit. Honour is a

homicide and a bloodspiller, that gangs about making frays in the street;

but Credit is a decent honest man, that sits at hame and makes the pat

play."

"Assuredly, Mr. Jarvie," said our friend Owen, "credit is the sum total;

and if we can but save that, at whatever discount"--

"Ye are right, Mr. Owen--ye are right; ye speak weel and wisely; and I

trust bowls will row right, though they are a wee ajee e'enow. But

touching Robin, I am of opinion he will befriend this young man if it is

in his power. He has a gude heart, puir Robin; and though I lost a matter

o' twa hundred punds wi' his former engagements, and haena muckle

expectation ever to see back my thousand punds Scots that he promises me

e'enow, yet I will never say but what Robin means fair by men."

"I am then to consider him," I replied, "as an honest man?"

"Umph!" replied Jarvie, with a precautionary sort of cough--"Ay, he has a

kind o' Hieland honesty--he's honest after a sort, as they say. My father

the deacon used aye to laugh when he tauld me how that by-word came up.

Ane Captain Costlett was cracking crouse about his loyalty to King

Charles, and Clerk Pettigrew (ye'll hae heard mony a tale about him)

asked him after what manner he served the king, when he was fighting

again him at Wor'ster in Cromwell's army; and Captain Costlett was a

ready body, and said that he served him _after a sort._ My honest father

used to laugh weel at that sport--and sae the by-word came up."

"But do you think," I said, "that this man will be able to serve me after

a sort, or should I trust myself to this place of rendezvous which he has

given me?"

"Frankly and fairly, it's worth trying. Ye see yourself there's some risk

in your staying here. This bit body Morris has gotten a custom-house

place doun at Greenock--that's a port on the Firth doun by here; and tho'

a' the world kens him to be but a twa-leggit creature, wi' a goose's head

and a hen's heart, that goes about on the quay plaguing folk about

permits, and cockits, and dockits, and a' that vexatious trade, yet if he

lodge an information--ou, nae doubt a man in magisterial duty maun attend

to it, and ye might come to be clapped up between four wa's, whilk wad be

ill-convenient to your father's affairs."

"True," I observed; "yet what service am I likely to render him by

leaving Glasgow, which, it is probable, will be the principal scene of

Rashleigh's machinations, and committing myself to the doubtful faith of

a man of whom I know little but that he fears justice, and has doubtless

good reasons for doing so; and that, for some secret, and probably

dangerous purpose, he is in close league and alliance with the very

person who is like to be the author of our ruin?"

"Ah, but ye judge Rob hardly," said the Bailie, "ye judge him hardly,

puir chield; and the truth is, that ye ken naething about our hill

country, or Hielands, as we ca' them. They are clean anither set frae the

like o' huz;--there's nae bailie-courts amang them--nae magistrates that

dinna bear the sword in vain, like the worthy deacon that's awa', and, I

may say't, like mysell and other present magistrates in this city--But

it's just the laird's command, and the loon maun loup; and the never

another law hae they but the length o' their dirks--the broadsword's

pursuer, or plaintiff, as you Englishers ca' it, and the target is

defender; the stoutest head bears langest out;--and there's a Hieland

plea for ye."

Owen groaned deeply; and I allow that the description did not greatly

increase my desire to trust myself in a country so lawless as he

described these Scottish mountains.

"Now, sir," said Jarvie, "we speak little o' thae things, because they

are familiar to oursells; and where's the use o' vilifying ane's country,

and bringing a discredit on ane's kin, before southrons and strangers?

It's an ill bird that files its ain nest."

"Well, sir, but as it is no impertinent curiosity of mine, but real

necessity, that obliges me to make these inquiries, I hope you will not

be offended at my pressing for a little farther information. I have to

deal, on my father's account, with several gentlemen of these wild

countries, and I must trust your good sense and experience for the

requisite lights upon the subject."

This little morsel of flattery was not thrown out in vain. "Experience!"

said the Bailie--"I hae had experience, nae doubt, and I hae made some

calculations--Ay, and to speak quietly amang oursells, I hae made some

perquisitions through Andrew Wylie, my auld clerk; he's wi' MacVittie &

Co. now--but he whiles drinks a gill on the Saturday afternoons wi' his

auld master. And since ye say ye are willing to be guided by the Glasgow

weaver-body's advice, I am no the man that will refuse it to the son of

an auld correspondent, and my father the deacon was nane sic afore me. I

have whiles thought o' letting my lights burn before the Duke of Argyle,

or his brother Lord Ilay (for wherefore should they be hidden under a

bushel?), but the like o' thae grit men wadna mind the like o' me, a puir

wabster body--they think mair o' wha says a thing, than o' what the thing

is that's said. The mair's the pity--mair's the pity. Not that I wad

speak ony ill of this MacCallum More--'Curse not the rich in your

bedchamber,' saith the son of Sirach, 'for a bird of the air shall carry

the clatter, and pint-stoups hae lang lugs.'"

I interrupted these prolegomena, in which Mr. Jarvie was apt to be

somewhat diffuse, by praying him to rely upon Mr. Owen and myself as

perfectly secret and safe confidants.

"It's no for that," he replied, "for I fear nae man--what for suld I?--I

speak nae treason--Only thae Hielandmen hae lang grips, and I whiles gang

a wee bit up the glens to see some auld kinsfolks, and I wadna willingly

be in bad blude wi' ony o' their clans. Howsumever, to proceed--ye maun

understand I found my remarks on figures, whilk as Mr. Owen here weel

kens, is the only true demonstrable root of human knowledge."

Owen readily assented to a proposition so much in his own way, and our

orator proceeded.

"These Hielands of ours, as we ca' them, gentlemen, are but a wild kind

of warld by themsells, full of heights and howes, woods, caverns, lochs,

rivers, and mountains, that it wad tire the very deevil's wings to flee

to the tap o' them. And in this country, and in the isles, whilk are

little better, or, to speak the truth, rather waur than the mainland,

there are about twa hunder and thirty parochines, including the Orkneys,

where, whether they speak Gaelic or no I wotna, but they are an

uncivilised people. Now, sirs, I sall haud ilk parochine at the moderate

estimate of eight hunder examinable persons, deducting children under

nine years of age, and then adding one-fifth to stand for bairns of nine

years auld, and under, the whole population will reach to the sum of--let

us add one-fifth to 800 to be the multiplier, and 230 being the

multiplicand"--

"The product," said Mr. Owen, who entered delightedly into these

statistics of Mr. Jarvie, "will be 230,000."

"Right, sir--perfectly right; and the military array of this Hieland

country, were a' the men-folk between aughteen and fifty-six brought out

that could bear arms, couldna come weel short of fifty-seven thousand

five hundred men. Now, sir, it's a sad and awfu' truth, that there is

neither wark, nor the very fashion nor appearance of wark, for the tae

half of thae puir creatures; that is to say, that the agriculture, the

pasturage, the fisheries, and every species of honest industry about the

country, cannot employ the one moiety of the population, let them work as

lazily as they like, and they do work as if a pleugh or a spade burnt

their fingers. Aweel, sir, this moiety of unemployed bodies, amounting

to"--

"To one hundred and fifteen thousand souls," said Owen, "being the half

of the above product."

"Ye hae't, Mr. Owen--ye hae't--whereof there may be twenty-eight thousand

seven hundred able-bodied gillies fit to bear arms, and that do bear

arms, and will touch or look at nae honest means of livelihood even if

they could get it--which, lack-a-day! they cannot."

"But is it possible," said I, "Mr. Jarvie, that this can be a just

picture of so large a portion of the island of Britain?"

"Sir, I'll make it as plain as Peter Pasley's pike-staff. I will allow

that ilk parochine, on an average, employs fifty pleughs, whilk is a

great proportion in sic miserable soil as thae creatures hae to labour,

and that there may be pasture enough for pleugh-horses, and owsen, and

forty or fifty cows; now, to take care o' the pleughs and cattle, we'se

allow seventy-five families of six lives in ilk family, and we'se add

fifty mair to make even numbers, and ye hae five hundred souls, the tae

half o' the population, employed and maintained in a sort o' fashion, wi'

some chance of sour-milk and crowdie; but I wad be glad to ken what the

other five hunder are to do?"

"In the name of God!" said I, "what _do_ they do, Mr. Jarvie? It makes me

shudder to think of their situation."

"Sir," replied the Bailie, "ye wad maybe shudder mair if ye were living

near hand them. For, admitting that the tae half of them may make some

little thing for themsells honestly in the Lowlands by shearing in harst,

droving, hay-making, and the like; ye hae still mony hundreds and

thousands o' lang-legged Hieland gillies that will neither work nor want,

and maun gang thigging and sorning* about on their acquaintance, or live

by doing the laird's bidding, be't right or be't wrang.

* _Thigging_ and _sorning_ was a kind of genteel begging, or rather

something between begging and robbing, by which the needy in Scotland

used to extort cattle, or the means of subsistence, from those who had

any to give.

And mair especially, mony hundreds o' them come down to the borders of

the low country, where there's gear to grip, and live by stealing,

reiving, lifting cows, and the like depredations--a thing deplorable in

ony Christian country!--the mair especially, that they take pride in it,

and reckon driving a spreagh (whilk is, in plain Scotch, stealing a herd

of nowte) a gallant, manly action, and mair befitting of pretty* men (as

sic reivers will ca' themselves), than to win a day's wage by ony honest

thrift.

* The word _pretty_ is or was used in Scotch, in the sense of the German

_prachtig,_ and meant a gallant, alert fellow, prompt and ready at his

weapons.

And the lairds are as bad as the loons; for if they dinna bid them gae

reive and harry, the deil a bit they forbid them; and they shelter them,

or let them shelter themselves, in their woods and mountains, and

strongholds, whenever the thing's dune. And every ane o' them will

maintain as mony o' his ane name, or his clan, as we say, as he can rap

and rend means for; or, whilk's the same thing, as mony as can in ony

fashion, fair or foul, mainteen themsells. And there they are wi' gun and

pistol, dirk and dourlach, ready to disturb the peace o' the country

whenever the laird likes; and that's the grievance of the Hielands, whilk

are, and hae been for this thousand years by-past, a bike o' the maist

lawless unchristian limmers that ever disturbed a douce, quiet,

God-fearing neighbourhood, like this o' ours in the west here."

"And this kinsman of yours, and friend of mine, is he one of those great

proprietors who maintain the household troops you speak of?" I inquired.

"Na, na," said Bailie Jarvie; "he's nane o' your great grandees o'

chiefs, as they ca' them, neither. Though he is weel born, and lineally

descended frae auld Glenstrae--I ken his lineage--indeed he is a near

kinsman, and, as I said, of gude gentle Hieland blude, though ye may

think weel that I care little about that nonsense--it's a' moonshine in

water--waste threads and thrums, as we say--But I could show ye letters

frae his father, that was the third aff Glenstrae, to my father Deacon

Jarvie (peace be wi' his memory!) beginning, Dear Deacon, and ending,

your loving kinsman to command,--they are amaist a' about borrowed

siller, sae the gude deacon, that's dead and gane, keepit them as

documents and evidents--He was a carefu' man."

"But if he is not," I resumed, "one of their chiefs or patriarchal

leaders, whom I have heard my father talk of, this kinsman of yours has,

at least, much to say in the Highlands, I presume?"

"Ye may say that--nae name better ken'd between the Lennox and

Breadalbane. Robin was ance a weel-doing, painstaking drover, as ye wad

see amang ten thousand--It was a pleasure to see him in his belted plaid

and brogues, wi' his target at his back, and claymore and dirk at his

belt, following a hundred Highland stots, and a dozen o' the gillies, as

rough and ragged as the beasts they drave. And he was baith civil and

just in his dealings; and if he thought his chapman had made a hard

bargain, he wad gie him a luck-penny to the mends. I hae ken'd him gie

back five shillings out o' the pund sterling."

"Twenty-five per cent," said Owen--"a heavy discount."

"He wad gie it though, sir, as I tell ye; mair especially if he thought

the buyer was a puir man, and couldna stand by a loss. But the times cam

hard, and Rob was venturesome. It wasna my faut--it wasna my faut; he

canna wyte me--I aye tauld him o't--And the creditors, mair especially

some grit neighbours o' his, gripped to his living and land; and they say

his wife was turned out o' the house to the hill-side, and sair misguided

to the boot. Shamefu'! shamefu'!--I am a peacefu' man and a magistrate,

but if ony ane had guided sae muckle as my servant quean, Mattie, as it's

like they guided Rob's wife, I think it suld hae set the shabble* that my

father the deacon had at Bothwell brig a-walking again.

* Cutlass.

Weel, Rob cam hame, and fand desolation, God pity us! where he left

plenty; he looked east, west, south, north, and saw neither hauld nor

hope--neither beild nor shelter; sae he e'en pu'd the bonnet ower his

brow, belted the broadsword to his side, took to the brae-side, and

became a broken man."*

* An outlaw.

The voice of the good citizen was broken by his contending feelings. He

obviously, while he professed to contemn the pedigree of his Highland

kinsman, attached a secret feeling of consequence to the connection, and

he spoke of his friend in his prosperity with an overflow of affection,

which deepened his sympathy for his misfortunes, and his regret for their

consequences.

"Thus tempted and urged by despair," said I, seeing Mr. Jarvie did not

proceed in his narrative, "I suppose your kinsman became one of those

depredators you have described to us?"

"No sae bad as that," said the Glaswegian,--"no a'thegither and outright

sae bad as that; but he became a levier of black-mail, wider and farther

than ever it was raised in our day, a through the Lennox and Menteith,

and up to the gates o' Stirling Castle."

"Black-mail?--I do not understand the phrase," I remarked.

"Ou, ye see, Rob soon gathered an unco band o' blue-bonnets at his back,

for he comes o' a rough name when he's kent by his ain, and a name that's

held its ain for mony a lang year, baith again king and parliament, and

kirk too, for aught I ken--an auld and honourable name, for as sair as it

has been worried and hadden down and oppressed. My mother was a

MacGregor--I carena wha kens it--And Rob had soon a gallant band; and as

it grieved him (he said) to see sic _hership_ and waste and depredation

to the south o' the Hieland line, why, if ony heritor or farmer wad pay

him four punds Scots out of each hundred punds of valued rent, whilk

was doubtless a moderate consideration, Rob engaged to keep them

scaithless;--let them send to him if they lost sae muckle as a single

cloot by thieving, and Rob engaged to get them again, or pay the

value--and he aye keepit his word--I canna deny but he keepit his

word--a' men allow Rob keeps his word."

"This is a very singular contract of assurance," said Mr. Owen.

"It's clean again our statute law, that must be owned," said Jarvie,

"clean again law; the levying and the paying black-mail are baith

punishable: but if the law canna protect my barn and byre, whatfor suld I

no engage wi' a Hieland gentleman that can?--answer me that."

"But," said I, "Mr. Jarvie, is this contract of black-mail, as you call

it, completely voluntary on the part of the landlord or farmer who pays

the insurance? or what usually happens, in case any one refuses payment

of this tribute?"

"Aha, lad!" said the Bailie, laughing, and putting his finger to his

nose, "ye think ye hae me there. Troth, I wad advise ony friends o' mine

to gree wi' Rob; for, watch as they like, and do what they like, they are

sair apt to be harried* when the lang nights come on.

* Plundered.

Some o' the Grahame and Cohoon gentry stood out; but what then?--they

lost their haill stock the first winter; sae maist folks now think it

best to come into Rob's terms. He's easy wi' a' body that will be easy

wi' him; but if ye thraw him, ye had better thraw the deevil."

"And by his exploits in these vocations," I continued, "I suppose he has

rendered himself amenable to the laws of the country?"

"Amenable?--ye may say that; his craig wad ken the weight o' his hurdies

if they could get haud o' Rob. But he has gude friends amang the grit

folks; and I could tell ye o' ae grit family that keeps him up as far as

they decently can, to be a them in the side of another. And then he's sic

an auld-farran lang-headed chield as never took up the trade o' cateran

in our time; mony a daft reik he has played--mair than wad fill a book,

and a queer ane it wad be--as gude as Robin Hood, or William Wallace--a'

fu' o' venturesome deeds and escapes, sic as folk tell ower at a winter

ingle in the daft days. It's a queer thing o' me, gentlemen, that am a

man o' peace mysell, and a peacefu man's son--for the deacon my father

quarrelled wi' nane out o the town-council--it's a queer thing, I say,

but I think the Hieland blude o' me warms at thae daft tales, and whiles

I like better to hear them than a word o' profit, gude forgie me! But

they are vanities--sinfu' vanities--and, moreover, again the statute

law--again the statute and gospel law."

I now followed up my investigation, by inquiring what means of influence

this Mr. Robert Campbell could possibly possess over my affairs, or those

of my father.

"Why, ye are to understand," said Mr. Jarvie in a very subdued tone--"I

speak amang friends, and under the rose--Ye are to understand, that the

Hielands hae been keepit quiet since the year aughty-nine--that was

Killiecrankie year. But how hae they been keepit quiet, think ye? By

siller, Mr. Owen--by siller, Mr. Osbaldistone. King William caused

Breadalbane distribute twenty thousand oude punds sterling amang them,

and it's said the auld Hieland Earl keepit a lang lug o't in his ain

sporran. And then Queen Anne, that's dead, gae the chiefs bits o'

pensions, sae they had wherewith to support their gillies and caterans

that work nae wark, as I said afore; and they lay by quiet eneugh, saying

some spreagherie on the Lowlands, whilk is their use and wont, and some

cutting o' thrapples amang themsells, that nae civilised body kens or

cares onything anent.--Weel, but there's a new warld come up wi' this

King George (I say, God bless him, for ane)--there's neither like to be

siller nor pensions gaun amang them; they haena the means o' mainteening

the clans that eat them up, as ye may guess frae what I said before;

their credit's gane in the Lowlands; and a man that can whistle ye up a

thousand or feifteen hundred linking lads to do his will, wad hardly get

fifty punds on his band at the Cross o' Glasgow--This canna stand

lang--there will be an outbreak for the Stuarts--there will be an

outbreak--they will come down on the low country like a flood, as they

did in the waefu' wars o' Montrose, and that will be seen and heard tell

o' ere a twalmonth gangs round."

"Yet still," I said, "I do not see how this concerns Mr. Campbell, much

less my father's affairs."

"Rob can levy five hundred men, sir, and therefore war suld concern him

as muckle as maist folk," replied the Bailie; "for it is a faculty that

is far less profitable in time o' peace. Then, to tell ye the truth, I

doubt he has been the prime agent between some o' our Hieland chiefs and

the gentlemen in the north o' England. We a' heard o' the public money

that was taen frae the chield Morris somewhere about the fit o' Cheviot

by Rob and ane o' the Osbaldistone lads; and, to tell ye the truth, word

gaed that it was yoursell Mr. Francis,--and sorry was I that your

father's son suld hae taen to sic practices--Na, ye needna say a word

about it--I see weel I was mistaen; but I wad believe onything o' a

stage-player, whilk I concluded ye to be. But now, I doubtna, it has been

Rashleigh himself or some other o' your cousins--they are a' tarred wi'

the same stick--rank Jacobites and papists, and wad think the government

siller and government papers lawfu' prize. And the creature Morris is sic

a cowardly caitiff, that to this hour he daurna say that it was Rob took

the portmanteau aff him; and troth he's right, for your custom-house and

excise cattle are ill liket on a' sides, and Rob might get a back-handed

lick at him, before the Board, as they ca't, could help him."

"I have long suspected this, Mr. Jarvie," said I, "and perfectly agree

with you. But as to my father's affairs"--

"Suspected it?--it's certain--it's certain--I ken them that saw some of

the papers that were taen aff Morris--it's needless to say where. But to

your father's affairs--Ye maun think that in thae twenty years by-gane,

some o' the Hieland lairds and chiefs hae come to some sma' sense o'

their ain interest--your father and others hae bought the woods of

Glen-Disseries, Glen Kissoch, Tober-na-Kippoch, and mony mair besides,

and your father's house has granted large bills in payment,--and as the

credit o' Osbaldistone and Tresham was gude--for I'll say before Mr.

Owen's face, as I wad behind his back, that, bating misfortunes o' the

Lord's sending, nae men could be mair honourable in business--the Hieland

gentlemen, holders o' thae bills, hae found credit in Glasgow and

Edinburgh--(I might amaist say in Glasgow wholly, for it's little the

pridefu' Edinburgh folk do in real business)--for all, or the greater

part of the contents o' thae bills. So that--Aha! d'ye see me now?"

I confessed I could not quite follow his drift.

"Why," said he, "if these bills are not paid, the Glasgow merchant comes

on the Hieland lairds, whae hae deil a boddle o' siller, and will like

ill to spew up what is item a' spent--They will turn desperate--five

hundred will rise that might hae sitten at hame--the deil will gae ower

Jock Wabster--and the stopping of your father's house will hasten the

outbreak that's been sae lang biding us."

"You think, then," said I, surprised at this singular view of the case,

"that Rashleigh Osbaldistone has done this injury to my father, merely to

accelerate a rising in the Highlands, by distressing the gentlemen to whom

these bills were originally granted?"

"Doubtless--doubtless--it has been one main reason, Mr. Osbaldistone. I

doubtna but what the ready money he carried off wi' him might be another.

But that makes comparatively but a sma' part o' your father's loss,

though it might make the maist part o' Rashleigh's direct gain. The

assets he carried off are of nae mair use to him than if he were to light

his pipe wi' them. He tried if MacVittie & Co. wad gie him siller on

them--that I ken by Andro Wylie--but they were ower auld cats to draw

that strae afore them--they keepit aff, and gae fair words. Rashleigh

Osbaldistone is better ken'd than trusted in Glasgow, for he was here

about some jacobitical papistical troking in seventeen hundred and seven,

and left debt ahint him. Na, na--he canna pit aff the paper here; folk

will misdoubt him how he came by it. Na, na--he'll hae the stuff safe at

some o' their haulds in the Hielands, and I daur say my cousin Rob could

get at it gin he liked."

"But would he be disposed to serve us in this pinch, Mr. Jarvie?" said I.

"You have described him as an agent of the Jacobite party, and deeply

connected in their intrigues: will he be disposed for my sake, or, if you

please, for the sake of justice, to make an act of restitution, which,

supposing it in his power, would, according to your view of the case,

materially interfere with their plans?"

"I canna preceesely speak to that: the grandees among them are doubtfu'

o' Rob, and he's doubtfu' o' them.--And he's been weel friended wi' the

Argyle family, wha stand for the present model of government. If he was

freed o' his hornings and captions, he would rather be on Argyle's side

than he wad be on Breadalbane's, for there's auld ill-will between the

Breadalbane family and his kin and name. The truth is, that Rob is for

his ain hand, as Henry Wynd feught*--he'll take the side that suits him

best; if the deil was laird, Rob wad be for being tenant; and ye canna

blame him, puir fallow, considering his circumstances.

* Two great clans fought out a quarrel with thirty men of a side, in

presence ot the king, on the North Inch of Perth, on or about the year

1392; a man was amissing on one side, whose room was filled by a little

bandy-legged citizen of Perth. This substitute, Henry Wynd--or, as the

Highlanders called him, _Gow Chrom,_ that is, the bandy-legged

smith--fought well, and contributed greatly to the fate of the battle,

without knowing which side he fought on;--so, "To fight for your own

hand, like Henry Wynd," passed into a proverb. [This incident forms a

conspicuous part of the subsequent novel, "The Fair Maid of Perth."]

But there's ae thing sair again ye--Rob has a grey mear in his stable at

hame."

"A grey mare?" said I. "What is that to the purpose?"

"The wife, man--the wife,--an awfu' wife she is. She downa bide the sight

o' a kindly Scot, if he come frae the Lowlands, far less of an Inglisher,

and she'll be keen for a' that can set up King James, and ding down King

George."

"It is very singular," I replied, "that the mercantile transactions of

London citizens should become involved with revolutions and rebellions."

"Not at a', man--not at a'," returned Mr. Jarvie; "that's a' your silly

prejudications. I read whiles in the lang dark nights, and I hae read in

Baker's Chronicle* that the merchants o'London could gar the Bank of

Genoa break their promise to advance a mighty sum to the King o' Spain,

whereby the sailing of the Grand Spanish Armada was put aff for a haill

year--What think you of that, sir?"

* [_The Chronicle of the Kings of England,_ by Sir Richard Baker, with

continuations, passed through several editions between 1641 and 1733.

Whether any of them contain the passage alluded to is doubtful.]

"That the merchants did their country golden service, which ought to be

honourably remembered in our histories."

"I think sae too; and they wad do weel, and deserve weal baith o' the

state and o' humanity, that wad save three or four honest Hieland

gentlemen frae louping heads ower heels into destruction, wi' a' their

puir sackless* followers, just because they canna pay back the siller

they had reason to count upon as their ain--and save your father's

credit--and my ain gude siller that Osbaldistone and Tresham awes me into

the bargain.

* Sackless, that is, innocent.

I say, if ane could manage a' this, I think it suld be done and said unto

him, even if he were a puir ca'-the-shuttle body, as unto one whom the

king delighteth to honour."

"I cannot pretend to estimate the extent of public gratitude," I replied;

"but our own thankfulness, Mr. Jarvie, would be commensurate with the

extent of the obligation."

"Which," added Mr. Owen, "we would endeavour to balance with a _per

contra,_ the instant our Mr. Osbaldistone returns from Holland."

"I doubtna--I doubtna--he is a very worthy gentleman, and a sponsible,

and wi' some o' my lights might do muckle business in Scotland--Weel,

sir, if these assets could be redeemed out o' the hands o' the

Philistines, they are gude paper--they are the right stuff when they are

in the right hands, and that's yours, Mr. Owen. And I'se find ye three

men in Glasgow, for as little as ye may think o' us, Mr. Owen--that's

Sandie Steenson in the Trade's-Land, and John Pirie in Candleriggs, and

another that sall be nameless at this present, sall advance what soums

are sufficient to secure the credit of your house, and seek nae better

security."

Owen's eyes sparkled at this prospect of extrication; but his countenance

instantly fell on recollecting how improbable it was that the recovery of

the assets, as he technically called them, should be successfully

achieved.

"Dinna despair, sir--dinna despair," said Mr. Jarvie; "I hae taen sae

muckle concern wi' your affairs already, that it maun een be ower shoon

ower boots wi' me now. I am just like my father the deacon (praise be wi'

him!) I canna meddle wi' a friend's business, but I aye end wi' making it

my ain--Sae, I'll e'en pit on my boots the morn, and be jogging ower

Drymen Muir wi' Mr. Frank here; and if I canna mak Rob hear reason, and

his wife too, I dinna ken wha can--I hae been a kind freend to them afore

now, to say naething o' ower-looking him last night, when naming his name

wad hae cost him his life--I'll be hearing o' this in the council maybe

frae Bailie Grahame. and MacVittie, and some o' them. They hae coost up

my kindred to Rob to me already--set up their nashgabs! I tauld them I

wad vindicate nae man's faults; but set apart what he had done again the

law o' the country, and the hership o' the Lennox, and the misfortune o'

some folk losing life by him, he was an honester man than stood on ony o'

their shanks--And whatfor suld I mind their clavers? If Rob is an outlaw,

to himsell be it said--there is nae laws now about reset of

inter-communed persons, as there was in the ill times o' the last

Stuarts--I trow I hae a Scotch tongue in my head--if they speak, I'se

answer."

It was with great pleasure that I saw the Bailie gradually surmount the

barriers of caution, under the united influence of public spirit and

good-natured interest in our affairs, together with his natural wish to

avoid loss and acquire gain, and not a little harmless vanity. Through

the combined operation of these motives, he at length arrived at the

doughty resolution of taking the field in person, to aid in the recovery

of my father's property. His whole information led me to believe, that if

the papers were in possession of this Highland adventurer, it might be

possible to induce him to surrender what he could not keep with any

prospect of personal advantage; and I was conscious that the presence of

his kinsman was likely to have considerable weight with him. I therefore

cheerfully acquiesced in Mr. Jarvie's proposal that we should set out

early next morning.

That honest gentleman was indeed as vivacious and alert in preparing to

carry his purpose into execution, as he had been slow and cautious in

forming it. He roared to Mattie to "air his trot-cosey, to have his

jack-boots greased and set before the kitchen-fire all night, and to see

that his beast be corned, and a' his riding gear in order." Having agreed

to meet him at five o'clock next morning, and having settled that Owen,

whose presence could be of no use to us upon this expedition, should

await our return at Glasgow, we took a kind farewell of this unexpectedly

zealous friend. I installed Owen in an apartment in my lodgings,

contiguous to my own, and, giving orders to Andrew Fairservice to attend

me next morning at the hour appointed, I retired to rest with better

hopes than it had lately been my fortune to entertain.

CHAPTER TENTH.

Far as the eye could reach no tree was seen,

Earth, clad in russet, scorned the lively green;

No birds, except as birds of passage flew;

No bee was heard to hum, no dove to coo;

No streams, as amber smooth-as amber clear,

Were seen to glide, or heard to warble here.

Prophecy of Famine.

It was in the bracing atmosphere of a harvest morning, that I met by

appointment Fairservice, with the horses, at the door of Mr. Jarvie's

house, which was but little space distant from Mrs. Flyter's hotel. The

first matter which caught my attention was, that whatever were the

deficiencies of the pony which Mr. Fairservice's legal adviser, Clerk

Touthope, generously bestowed upon him in exchange for Thorncliff's mare,

he had contrived to part with it, and procure in its stead an animal with

so curious and complete a lameness, that it seemed only to make use of

three legs for the purpose of progression, while the fourth appeared as

if meant to be flourished in the air by way of accompaniment. "What do

you mean by bringing such a creature as that here, sir? and where is the

pony you rode to Glasgow upon?" were my very natural and impatient

inquiries.

"I sell't it, sir. It was a slink beast, and wad hae eaten its head aff,

standing at Luckie Flyter's at livery. And I hae bought this on your

honour's account. It's a grand bargain--cost but a pund sterling the

foot--that's four a'thegither. The stringhalt will gae aff when it's gaen

a mile; it's a weel-ken'd ganger; they call it Souple Tam."

"On my soul, sir," said I, "you will never rest till my supple-jack and

your shoulders become acquainted, If you do not go instantly and procure

the other brute, you shall pay the penalty of your ingenuity."

Andrew, notwithstanding my threats, continued to battle the point, as he

said it would cost him a guinea of rue-bargain to the man who had bought

his pony, before he could get it back again. Like a true Englishman,

though sensible I was duped by the rascal, I was about to pay his

exaction rather than lose time, when forth sallied Mr. Jarvie, cloaked,

mantled, hooded, and booted, as if for a Siberian winter, while two

apprentices, under the immediate direction of Mattie, led forth the

decent ambling steed which had the honour on such occasions to support

the person of the Glasgow magistrate. Ere he "clombe to the saddle," an

expression more descriptive of the Bailie's mode of mounting than that of

the knights-errant to whom Spenser applies it, he inquired the cause of

the dispute betwixt my servant and me. Having learned the nature of

honest Andrew's manoeuvre he instantly cut short all debate, by

pronouncing, that if Fairservice did not forthwith return the

three-legged palfrey, and produce the more useful quadruped which he had

discarded, he would send him to prison, and amerce him in half his wages.

"Mr. Osbaldistone," said he, "contracted for the service of both your

horse and you--twa brutes at ance--ye unconscionable rascal!--but I'se

look weel after you during this journey."

"It will be nonsense fining me," said Andrew, doughtily, "that hasna a

grey groat to pay a fine wi'--it's ill taking the breeks aff a

Hielandman."

"If ye hae nae purse to fine, ye hae flesh to pine," replied the Bailie,

"and I will look weel to ye getting your deserts the tae way or the

tither."

To the commands of Mr. Jarvie, therefore, Andrew was compelled to submit,

only muttering between his teeth, "Ower mony maisters,--ower mony

maisters, as the paddock said to the harrow, when every tooth gae her a

tig."

Apparently he found no difficulty in getting rid of Supple Tam, and

recovering possession of his former Bucephalus, for he accomplished the

exchange without being many minutes absent; nor did I hear further of his

having paid any smart-money for breach of bargain.

We now set forward, but had not reached the top of the street in which

Mr. Jarvie dwelt, when a loud hallooing and breathless call of "Stop,

stop!" was heard behind us. We stopped accordingly, and were overtaken by

Mr. Jarvie's two lads, who bore two parting tokens of Mattie's care for

her master. The first was conveyed in the form of a voluminous silk

handkerchief, like the mainsail of one of his own West-Indiamen, which

Mrs. Mattie particularly desired he would put about his neck, and which,

thus entreated, he added to his other integuments. The second youngster

brought only a verbal charge (I thought I saw the rogue disposed to laugh

as he delivered it) on the part of the housekeeper, that her master would

take care of the waters. "Pooh! pooh! silly hussy," answered Mr. Jarvie;

but added, turning to me, "it shows a kind heart though--it shows a kind

heart in sae young a quean--Mattie's a carefu' lass." So speaking, he

pricked the sides of his palfrey, and we left the town without farther

interruption.

While we paced easily forward, by a road which conducted us

north-eastward from the town, I had an opportunity to estimate and admire

the good qualities of my new friend. Although, like my father, he

considered commercial transactions the most important objects of human

life, he was not wedded to them so as to undervalue more general

knowledge. On the contrary, with much oddity and vulgarity of

manner,--with a vanity which he made much more ridiculous by disguising

it now and then under a thin veil of humility, and devoid as he was of

all the advantages of a learned education, Mr. Jarvie's conversation

showed tokens of a shrewd, observing, liberal, and, to the extent of its

opportunities, a well-improved mind. He was a good local antiquary, and

entertained me, as we passed along, with an account of remarkable events

which had formerly taken place in the scenes through which we passed.

And as he was well acquainted with the ancient history of his district,

he saw with the prospective eye of an enlightened patriot, the buds of

many of those future advantages which have only blossomed and ripened

within these few years. I remarked also, and with great pleasure, that

although a keen Scotchman, and abundantly zealous for the honour of his

country, he was disposed to think liberally of the sister kingdom. When

Andrew Fairservice (whom, by the way, the Bailie could not abide) chose

to impute the accident of one of the horses casting his shoe to the

deteriorating influence of the Union, he incurred a severe rebuke from

Mr. Jarvie.

"Whisht, sir!--whisht! it's ill-scraped tongues like yours, that make

mischief atween neighbourhoods and nations. There's naething sae gude on

this side o' time but it might hae been better, and that may be said o'

the Union. Nane were keener against it than the Glasgow folk, wi' their

rabblings and their risings, and their mobs, as they ca' them now-a-days.

But it's an ill wind blaws naebody gude--Let ilka ane roose the ford as

they find it--I say let Glasgow flourish! whilk is judiciously and

elegantly putten round the town's arms, by way of by-word.--Now, since

St. Mungo catched herrings in the Clyde, what was ever like to gar us

flourish like the sugar and tobacco trade? Will onybody tell me that, and

grumble at the treaty that opened us a road west-awa' yonder?"

Andrew Fairservice was far from acquiescing in these arguments of

expedience, and even ventured to enter a grumbling protest, "That it was

an unco change to hae Scotland's laws made in England; and that, for his

share, he wadna for a' the herring-barrels in Glasgow, and a' the

tobacco-casks to boot, hae gien up the riding o' the Scots Parliament, or

sent awa' our crown, and our sword, and our sceptre, and Mons Meg,* to be

keepit by thae English pock-puddings in the Tower o' Lunnon.

* Note G. Mons Meg.

What wad Sir William Wallace, or auld Davie Lindsay, hae said to the

Union, or them that made it?"

The road which we travelled, while diverting the way with these

discussions, had become wild and open, as soon as we had left Glasgow a

mile or two behind us, and was growing more dreary as we advanced. Huge

continuous heaths spread before, behind, and around us, in hopeless

barrenness--now level and interspersed with swamps, green with

treacherous verdure, or sable with turf, or, as they call them in

Scotland, peat-bogs,--and now swelling into huge heavy ascents, which

wanted the dignity and form of hills, while they were still more toilsome

to the passenger. There were neither trees nor bushes to relieve the eye

from the russet livery of absolute sterility. The very heath was of that

stinted imperfect kind which has little or no flower, and affords the

coarsest and meanest covering, which, as far as my experience enables me

to judge, mother Earth is ever arrayed in. Living thing we saw none,

except occasionally a few straggling sheep of a strange diversity of

colours, as black, bluish, and orange. The sable hue predominated,

however, in their faces and legs. The very birds seemed to shun these

wastes, and no wonder, since they had an easy method of escaping from

them;--at least I only heard the monotonous and plaintive cries of the

lapwing and curlew, which my companions denominated the peasweep and

whaup.

At dinner, however, which we took about noon, at a most miserable

alehouse, we had the good fortune to find that these tiresome screamers

of the morass were not the only inhabitants of the moors. The goodwife

told us, that "the gudeman had been at the hill;" and well for us that he

had been so, for we enjoyed the produce of his _chasse_ in the shape of

some broiled moor-game,--a dish which gallantly eked out the ewe-milk

cheese, dried salmon, and oaten bread, being all besides that the house

afforded. Some very indifferent two-penny ale, and a glass of excellent

brandy, crowned our repast; and as our horses had, in the meantime,

discussed their corn, we resumed our journey with renovated vigour.

I had need of all the spirits a good dinner could give, to resist the

dejection which crept insensibly on my mind, when I combined the strange

uncertainty of my errand with the disconsolate aspect of the country

through which it was leading me. Our road continued to be, if possible,

more waste and wild than that we had travelled in the forenoon. The few

miserable hovels that showed some marks of human habitation, were now of

still rarer occurrence; and at length, as we began to ascend an

uninterrupted swell of moorland, they totally disappeared. The only

exercise which my imagination received was, when some particular turn of

the road gave us a partial view, to the left, of a large assemblage of

dark-blue mountains stretching to the north and north-west, which

promised to include within their recesses a country as wild perhaps, but

certainly differing greatly in point of interest, from that which we now

travelled. The peaks of this screen of mountains were as wildly varied

and distinguished, as the hills which we had seen on the right were tame

and lumpish; and while I gazed on this Alpine region, I felt a longing to

explore its recesses, though accompanied with toil and danger, similar to

that which a sailor feels when he wishes for the risks and animation of a

battle or a gale, in exchange for the insupportable monotony of a

protracted calm. I made various inquiries of my friend Mr. Jarvie

respecting the names and positions of these remarkable mountains; but it

was a subject on which he had no information, or did not choose to be

communicative. "They're the Hieland hills--the Hieland hills--Ye'll see

and hear eneugh about them before ye see Glasgow Cross again--I downa

look at them--I never see them but they gar me grew. It's no for fear--no

for fear, but just for grief, for the puir blinded half-starved creatures

that inhabit them--but say nae mair about it--it's ill speaking o'

Hielandmen sae near the line. I hae ken'd mony an honest man wadna hae

ventured this length without he had made his last will and

testament--Mattie had ill-will to see me set awa' on this ride, and grat

awee, the sillie tawpie; but it's nae mair ferlie to see a woman greet

than to see a goose gang barefit."

I next attempted to lead the discourse on the character and history of

the person whom we were going to visit; but on this topic Mr. Jarvie was

totally inaccessible, owing perhaps in part to the attendance of Mr.

Andrew Fairservice, who chose to keep so close in our rear that his ears

could not fail to catch every word which was spoken, while his tongue

assumed the freedom of mingling in our conversation as often as he saw an

opportunity. For this he occasionally incurred Mr. Jarvie's reproof.

"Keep back, sir, as best sets ye," said the Bailie, as Andrew pressed

forward to catch the answer to some question I had asked about Campbell.

--"ye wad fain ride the fore-horse, an ye wist how.--That chield's aye

for being out o' the cheese-fat he was moulded in.--Now, as for your

questions, Mr. Osbaldistone, now that chield's out of ear-shot, I'll just

tell you it's free to you to speer, and it's free to me to answer, or

no--Gude I canna say muckle o' Rob, puir chield; ill I winna say o' him,

for, forby that he's my cousin, we're coming near his ain country, and

there may be ane o' his gillies ahint every whin-bush, for what I

ken--And if ye'll be guided by my advice, the less ye speak about him, or

where we are gaun, or what we are gaun to do, we'll be the mair likely to

speed us in our errand. For it's like we may fa' in wi' some o' his

unfreends--there are e'en ower mony o' them about--and his bonnet sits

even on his brow yet for a' that; but I doubt they'll be upsides wi' Rob

at the last--air day or late day, the fox's hide finds aye the flaying

knife."

"I will certainly," I replied, "be entirely guided by your experience."

"Right, Mr. Osbaldistone--right. But I maun speak to this gabbling skyte

too, for bairns and fules speak at the Cross what they hear at the

ingle-side.--D'ye hear, you, Andrew--what's your name?--Fairservice!"

Andrew, who at the last rebuff had fallen a good way behind, did not

choose to acknowledge the summons.

"Andrew, ye scoundrel!" repeated Mr. Jarvie; "here, sir here!"

"Here is for the dog." said Andrew, coming up sulkily.

"I'll gie you dog's wages, ye rascal, if ye dinna attend to what I say

t'ye--We are gaun into the Hielands a bit"--

"I judged as muckle," said Andrew.

"Haud your peace, ye knave, and hear what I have to say till ye--We are

gaun a bit into the Hielands"--

"Ye tauld me sae already," replied the incorrigible Andrew.

"I'll break your head," said the Bailie, rising in wrath, "if ye dinna

haud your tongue."

"A hadden tongue," replied Andrew, "makes a slabbered mouth."

It was now necessary I should interfere, which I did by commanding

Andrew, with an authoritative tone, to be silent at his peril.

"I am silent," said Andrew. "I'se do a' your lawfu' bidding without a

nay-say. My puir mother used aye to tell me,

Be it better, be it worse,

Be ruled by him that has the purse.

Sae ye may e'en speak as lang as ye like, baith the tane and the tither

o' you, for Andrew."

Mr. Jarvie took the advantage of his stopping after quoting the above

proverb, to give him the requisite instructions. "Now, sir, it's as

muckle as your life's worth--that wad be dear o' little siller, to be

sure--but it is as muckle as a' our lives are worth, if ye dinna mind

what I sae to ye. In this public whar we are gaun to, and whar it is like

we may hae to stay a' night, men o' a' clans and kindred--Hieland and

Lawland--tak up their quarters--And whiles there are mair drawn dirks

than open Bibles amang them, when the usquebaugh gets uppermost. See ye

neither meddle nor mak, nor gie nae offence wi' that clavering tongue o'

yours, but keep a calm sough, and let ilka cock fight his ain battle."

"Muckle needs to tell me that," said Andrew, contemptuously, "as if I had

never seen a Hielandman before, and ken'd nae how to manage them. Nae man

alive can cuitle up Donald better than mysell--I hae bought wi' them,

sauld wi' them, eaten wi' them, drucken wi' them"--

"Did ye ever fight wi' them?" said Mr. Jarvie.

"Na, na," answered Andrew, "I took care o' that: it wad ill hae set me,

that am an artist and half a scholar to my trade, to be fighting amang a

wheen kilted loons that dinna ken the name o' a single herb or flower in

braid Scots, let abee in the Latin tongue."

"Then," said Mr. Jarvie, "as ye wad keep either your tongue in your

mouth, or your lugs in your head (and ye might miss them, for as saucy

members as they are), I charge ye to say nae word, gude or bad, that ye

can weel get by, to onybody that may be in the Clachan. And ye'll

specially understand that ye're no to be bleezing and blasting about your

master's name and mine, or saying that this is Mr. Bailie Nicol Jarvie o'

the Saut Market, son o' the worthy Deacon Nicol Jarvie, that a' body has

heard about; and this is Mr. Frank Osbaldistone, son of the managing

partner of the great house of Osbaldistone and Tresham, in the City."

"Eneueh said," answered Andrew--"eneueh said. What need ye think I wad be

speaking about your names for?--I hae mony things o' mair importance to

speak about, I trow."

"It's thae very things of importance that I am feared for, ye blethering

goose; ye maunna speak ony thing, gude or bad, that ye can by any

possibility help."

"If ye dinna think me fit," replied Andrew, in a huff, "to speak like

ither folk, gie me my wages and my board-wages, and I'se gae back to

Glasgow--There's sma' sorrow at our parting, as the auld mear said to the

broken cart."

Finding Andrew's perverseness again rising to a point which threatened to

occasion me inconvenience, I was under the necessity of explaining to

him, that he might return if he thought proper, but that in that case I

would not pay him a single farthing for his past services. The argument

_ad crumenam,_ as it has been called by jocular logicians, has weight

with the greater part of mankind, and Andrew was in that particular far

from affecting any trick of singularity. He "drew in his horns," to use

the Bailie's phrase, on the instant, professed no intention whatever to

disoblige, and a resolution to be guided by my commands, whatever they

might be.

Concord being thus happily restored to our small party, we continued to

pursue our journey. The road, which had ascended for six or seven English

miles, began now to descend for about the same space, through a country

which neither in fertility nor interest could boast any advantage over

that which we had passed already, and which afforded no variety, unless

when some tremendous peak of a Highland mountain appeared at a distance.

We continued, however, to ride on without pause and even when night fell

and overshadowed the desolate wilds which we traversed, we were, as I

understood from Mr. Jarvie, still three miles and a bittock distant from

the place where we were to spend the night.

CHAPTER ELEVENTH.

Baron of Bucklivie,

May the foul fiend drive ye,

And a' to pieces rive ye,

For building sic a town,

Where there's neither horse meat,

Nor man's meat,

Nor a chair to sit down.

Scottish Popular Rhymes on a bad Inn.

The night was pleasant, and the moon afforded us good light for our

journey. Under her rays, the ground over which we passed assumed a more

interesting appearance than during the broad daylight, which discovered

the extent of its wasteness. The mingled light and shadows gave it an

interest which naturally did not belong to it; and, like the effect of a

veil flung over a plain woman, irritated our curiosity on a subject which

had in itself nothing gratifying.

The descent, however, still continued, turned, winded, left the more open

heaths, and got into steeper ravines, which promised soon to lead us to

the banks of some brook or river, and ultimately made good their presage.

We found ourselves at length on the bank of a stream, which rather

resembled one of my native English rivers than those I had hitherto seen

in Scotland. It was narrow, deep, still, and silent; although the

imperfect light, as it gleamed on its placid waters, showed also that we

were now among the lofty mountains which formed its cradle. "That's the

Forth," said the Bailie, with an air of reverence, which I have observed

the Scotch usually pay to their distinguished rivers. The Clyde, the

Tweed, the Forth, the Spey, are usually named by those who dwell on their

banks with a sort of respect and pride, and I have known duels occasioned

by any word of disparagement. I cannot say I have the least quarrel with

this sort of harmless enthusiasm. I received my friend's communication

with the importance which he seemed to think appertained to it. In fact,

I was not a little pleased, after so long and dull a journey, to approach

a region which promised to engage the imagination. My faithful squire,

Andrew, did not seem to be quite of the same opinion, for he received the

solemn information, "That is the Forth," with a "Umph!--an he had said

that's the public-house, it wad hae been mair to the purpose."

The Forth, however, as far as the imperfect light permitted me to judge,

seemed to merit the admiration of those who claimed an interest in its

stream. A beautiful eminence of the most regular round shape, and clothed

with copsewood of hazels, mountain-ash, and dwarf-oak, intermixed with a

few magnificent old trees, which, rising above the underwood, exposed

their forked and bared branches to the silver moonshine, seemed to

protect the sources from which the river sprung. If I could trust the

tale of my companion, which, while professing to disbelieve every word of

it, he told under his breath, and with an air of something like

intimidation, this hill, so regularly formed, so richly verdant, and

garlanded with such a beautiful variety of ancient trees and thriving

copsewood, was held by the neighbourhood to contain, within its unseen

caverns, the palaces of the fairies--a race of airy beings, who formed an

intermediate class between men and demons, and who, if not positively

malignant to humanity, were yet to be avoided and feared, on account of

their capricious, vindictive, and irritable disposition.*

* Note H. Fairy Superstition.

"They ca' them," said Mr. Jarvie, in a whisper, "_Daoine Schie,_--whilk

signifies, as I understand, men of peace; meaning thereby to make their

gudewill. And we may e'en as weel ca' them that too, Mr. Osbaldistone,

for there's nae gude in speaking ill o' the laird within his ain bounds."

But he added presently after, on seeing one or two lights which twinkled

before us, "It's deceits o' Satan, after a', and I fearna to say it--for

we are near the manse now, and yonder are the lights in the Clachan of

Aberfoil."

I own I was well pleased at the circumstance to which Mr. Jarvie alluded;

not so much that it set his tongue at liberty, in his opinion, with all

safety to declare his real sentiments with respect to the _Daoine Schie,_

or fairies, as that it promised some hours' repose to ourselves and our

horses, of which, after a ride of fifty miles and upwards, both stood in

some need.

We crossed the infant Forth by an old-fashioned stone bridge, very high

and very narrow. My conductor, however, informed me, that to get through

this deep and important stream, and to clear all its tributary

dependencies, the general pass from the Highlands to the southward lay by

what was called the Fords of Frew, at all times deep and difficult of

passage, and often altogether unfordable. Beneath these fords, there was

no pass of general resort until so far east as the bridge of Stirling; so

that the river of Forth forms a defensible line between the Highlands and

Lowlands of Scotland, from its source nearly to the Firth, or inlet of

the ocean, in which it terminates. The subsequent events which we

witnessed led me to recall with attention what the shrewdness of Bailie

Jarvie suggested in his proverbial expression, that "Forth bridles the

wild Highlandman."

About half a mile's riding, after we crossed the bridge, placed us at the

door of the public-house where we were to pass the evening. It was a

hovel rather worse than better than that in which we had dined; but its

little windows were lighted up, voices were heard from within, and all

intimated a prospect of food and shelter, to which we were by no means

indifferent. Andrew was the first to observe that there was a peeled

willow-wand placed across the half-open door of the little inn. He hung

back and advised us not to enter. "For," said Andrew, "some of their

chiefs and grit men are birling at the usquebaugh in by there, and dinna

want to be disturbed; and the least we'll get, if we gang ramstam in on

them, will be a broken head, to learn us better havings, if we dinna come

by the length of a cauld dirk in our wame, whilk is just as likely."

I looked at the Bailie, who acknowledged, in a whisper, "that the gowk

had some reason for singing, ance in the year."

Meantime a staring half-clad wench or two came out of the inn and the

neighbouring cottages, on hearing the sound of our horses' feet. No one

bade us welcome, nor did any one offer to take our horses, from which we

had alighted; and to our various inquiries, the hopeless response of "Ha

niel Sassenach," was the only answer we could extract. The Bailie,

however, found (in his experience) a way to make them speak English. "If

I gie ye a bawbee," said he to an urchin of about ten years old, with a

fragment of a tattered plaid about him, "will you understand Sassenach?"

"Ay, ay, that will I," replied the brat, in very decent English. "Then

gang and tell your mammy, my man, there's twa Sassenach gentlemen come to

speak wi' her."

The landlady presently appeared, with a lighted piece of split fir

blazing in her hand. The turpentine in this species of torch (which is

generally dug from out the turf-bogs) makes it blaze and sparkle readily,

so that it is often used in the Highlands in lieu of candles. On this

occasion such a torch illuminated the wild and anxious features of a

female, pale, thin, and rather above the usual size, whose soiled and

ragged dress, though aided by a plaid or tartan screen, barely served the

purposes of decency, and certainly not those of comfort. Her black hair,

which escaped in uncombed elf-locks from under her coif, as well as the

strange and embarrassed look with which she regarded us, gave me the idea

of a witch disturbed in the midst of her unlawful rites. She plainly

refused to admit us into the house. We remonstrated anxiously, and

pleaded the length of our journey, the state of our horses, and the

certainty that there was not another place where we could be received

nearer than Callander, which the Bailie stated to be seven Scots miles

distant. How many these may exactly amount to in English measurement, I

have never been able to ascertain, but I think the double _ratio_ may be

pretty safely taken as a medium computation. The obdurate hostess treated

our expostulation with contempt. "Better gang farther than fare waur,"

she said, speaking the Scottish Lowland dialect, and being indeed a

native of the Lennox district--"Her house was taen up wi' them wadna like

to be intruded on wi' strangers. She didna ken wha mair might be

there--red-coats, it might be, frae the garrison." (These last words she

spoke under her breath, and with very strong emphasis.) "The night," she

said, "was fair abune head--a night amang the heather wad caller our

bloods--we might sleep in our claes, as mony a gude blade does in the

scabbard--there wasna muckle flowmoss in the shaw, if we took up our

quarters right, and we might pit up our horses to the hill, naebody wad

say naething against it."

"But, my good woman," said I, while the Bailie groaned and remained

undecided, "it is six hours since we dined, and we have not taken a

morsel since. I am positively dying with hunger, and I have no taste for

taking up my abode supperless among these mountains of yours. I

positively must enter; and make the best apology you can to your guests

for adding a stranger or two to their number. Andrew, you will see the

horses put up."

The Hecate looked at me with surprise, and then ejaculated--"A wilfu' man

will hae his way--them that will to Cupar maun to Cupar!--To see thae

English belly-gods! he has had ae fu' meal the day already, and he'll

venture life and liberty, rather than he'll want a het supper! Set

roasted beef and pudding on the opposite side o' the pit o' Tophet, and

an Englishman will mak a spang at it--But I wash my hands o't--Follow me

sir" (to Andrew), "and I'se show ye where to pit the beasts."

I own I was somewhat dismayed at my landlady's expressions, which seemed

to be ominous of some approaching danger. I did not, however, choose to

shrink back after having declared my resolution, and accordingly I boldly

entered the house; and after narrowly escaping breaking my shins over a

turf back and a salting tub, which stood on either side of the narrow

exterior passage, I opened a crazy half-decayed door, constructed not of

plank, but of wicker, and, followed by the Bailie, entered into the

principal apartment of this Scottish caravansary.

The interior presented a view which seemed singular enough to southern

eyes. The fire, fed with blazing turf and branches of dried wood, blazed

merrily in the centre; but the smoke, having no means to escape but

through a hole in the roof, eddied round the rafters of the cottage, and

hung in sable folds at the height of about five feet from the floor. The

space beneath was kept pretty clear by innumerable currents of air which

rushed towards the fire from the broken panel of basket-work which served

as a door--from two square holes, designed as ostensible windows, through

one of which was thrust a plaid, and through the other a tattered

great-coat--and moreover, through various less distinguishable apertures

in the walls of the tenement, which, being built of round stones and

turf, cemented by mud, let in the atmosphere at innumerable crevices.

At an old oaken table, adjoining to the fire, sat three men, guests

apparently, whom it was impossible to regard with indifference. Two were

in the Highland dress; the one, a little dark-complexioned man, with a

lively, quick, and irritable expression of features, wore the trews, or

close pantaloons wove out of a sort of chequered stocking stuff. The

Bailie whispered me, that "he behoved to be a man of some consequence,

for that naebody but their Duinhe'wassels wore the trews--they were ill

to weave exactly to their Highland pleasure."

The other mountaineer was a very tall, strong man, with a quantity of

reddish hair, freckled face, high cheek-bones, and long chin--a sort of

caricature of the national features of Scotland. The tartan which he wore

differed from that of his companion, as it had much more scarlet in it,

whereas the shades of black and dark-green predominated in the chequers

of the other. The third, who sate at the same table, was in the Lowland

dress,--a bold, stout-looking man, with a cast of military daring in his

eye and manner, his riding-dress showily and profusely laced, and his

cocked hat of formidable dimensions. His hanger and a pair of pistols lay

on the table before him. Each of the Highlanders had their naked dirks

stuck upright in the board beside him,--an emblem, I was afterwards

informed, but surely a strange one, that their computation was not to be

interrupted by any brawl. A mighty pewter measure, containing about an

English quart of usquebaugh, a liquor nearly as strong as brandy, which

the Highlanders distil from malt, and drink undiluted in excessive

quantities, was placed before these worthies. A broken glass, with a

wooden foot, served as a drinking cup to the whole party, and circulated

with a rapidity, which, considering the potency of the liquor, seemed

absolutely marvellous. These men spoke loudly and eagerly together,

sometimes in Gaelic, at other times in English. Another Highlander, wrapt

in his plaid, reclined on the floor, his head resting on a stone, from

which it was only separated by a wisp of straw, and slept or seemed to

sleep, without attending to what was going on around him, He also was

probably a stranger, for he lay in full dress, and accoutred with the

sword and target, the usual arms of his countrymen when on a journey.

Cribs there were of different dimensions beside the walls, formed, some

of fractured boards, some of shattered wicker-work or plaited boughs, in

which slumbered the family of the house, men, women, and children, their

places of repose only concealed by the dusky wreaths of vapour which

arose above, below, and around them.

Our entrance was made so quietly, and the carousers I have described were

so eagerly engaged in their discussions, that we escaped their notice for

a minute or two. But I observed the Highlander who lay beside the fire

raise himself on his elbow as we entered, and, drawing his plaid over the

lower part of his face, fix his look on us for a few seconds, after which

he resumed his recumbent posture, and seemed again to betake himself to

the repose which our entrance had interrupted,

We advanced to the fire, which was an agreeable spectacle after our late

ride, during the chillness of an autumn evening among the mountains, and

first attracted the attention of the guests who had preceded us, by

calling for the landlady. She approached, looking doubtfully and timidly,

now at us, now at the other party, and returned a hesitating and doubtful

answer to our request to have something to eat.

"She didna ken," she said, "she wasna sure there was onything in the

house," and then modified her refusal with the qualification--"that is,

onything fit for the like of us."

I assured her we were indifferent to the quality of our supper; and

looking round for the means of accommodation, which were not easily to be

found, I arranged an old hen-coop as a seat for Mr. Jarvie, and turned

down a broken tub to serve for my own. Andrew Fairservice entered

presently afterwards, and took a place in silence behind our backs. The

natives, as I may call them, continued staring at us with an air as if

confounded by our assurance, and we, at least I myself, disguised as well

as we could, under an appearance of indifference, any secret anxiety we

might feel concerning the mode in which we were to be received by those

whose privacy we had disturbed.

At length, the lesser Highlander, addressing himself to me said, in very

good English, and in a tone of great haughtiness, "Ye make yourself at

home, sir, I see."

"I usually do so," I replied, "when I come into a house of public

entertainment."

"And did she na see," said the taller man, "by the white wand at the

door, that gentlemans had taken up the public-house on their ain

business?"

"I do not pretend to understand the customs of this country but I am yet

to learn," I replied, "how three persons should be entitled to exclude

all other travellers from the only place of shelter and refreshment for

miles round."

"There's nae reason for't, gentlemen," said the Bailie; "we mean nae

offence--but there's neither law nor reason for't; but as far as a stoup

o' gude brandy wad make up the quarrel, we, being peaceable folk, wad be

willing."

"Damn your brandy, sir!" said the Lowlander, adjusting his cocked hat

fiercely upon his head; "we desire neither your brandy nor your company,"

and up he rose from his seat. His companions also arose, muttering to

each other, drawing up their plaids, and snorting and snuffing the air

after the mariner of their countrymen when working themselves into a

passion.

"I tauld ye what wad come, gentlemen," said the landlady, "an ye wad hae

been tauld:--get awa' wi' ye out o' my house, and make nae disturbance

here--there's nae gentleman be disturbed at Jeanie MacAlpine's an she can

hinder. A wheen idle English loons, gaun about the country under cloud o'

night, and disturbing honest peaceable gentlemen that are drinking their

drap drink at the fireside!"

At another time I should have thought of the old Latin adage,

"Dat veniam corvis, vexat censure columbas"--

But I had not any time for classical quotation, for there was obviously a

fray about to ensue, at which, feeling myself indiginant at the

inhospitable insolence with which I was treated, I was totally

indifferent, unless on the Bailie's account, whose person and qualities

were ill qualified for such an adventure. I started up, however, on

seeing the others rise, and dropped my. cloak from my shoulders, that I

might be ready to stand on the defensive.

"We are three to three," said the lesser Highlander, glancing his eyes at

our party: "if ye be pretty men, draw!" and unsheathing his broadsword,

he advanced on me. I put myself in a posture of defence, and aware of the

superiority of my weapon, a rapier or small-sword, was little afraid of

the issue of the contest. The Bailie behaved with unexpected mettle. As

he saw the gigantic Highlander confront him with his weapon drawn, he

tugged for a second or two at the hilt of his _shabble,_ as he called it;

but finding it loth to quit the sheath, to which it had long been secured

by rust and disuse, he seized, as a substitute, on the red-hot coulter of

a plough which had been employed in arranging the fire by way of a poker,

and brandished it with such effect, that at the first pass he set the

Highlander's plaid on fire, and compelled him to keep a respectful

distance till he could get it extinguished. Andrew, on the contrary, who

ought to have faced the Lowland champion, had, I grieve to say it,

vanished at the very commencement of the fray. But his antagonist, crying

"Fair play, fair play!" seemed courteously disposed to take no share in

the scuffle. Thus we commenced our rencontre on fair terms as to numbers.

My own aim was, to possess myself, if possible, of my antagonist's

weapon; but I was deterred from closing, for fear of the dirk which he

held in his left hand, and used in parrying the thrusts of my rapier.

Meantime the Bailie, notwithstanding the success of his first onset, was

sorely bested. The weight of his weapon, the corpulence of his person,

the very effervescence of his own passions, were rapidly exhausting both

his strength and his breath, and he was almost at the mercy of his

antagonist, when up started the sleeping Highlander from the floor on

which he reclined, with his naked sword and target in his hand, and threw

himself between the discomfited magistrate and his assailant, exclaiming,

"Her nainsell has eaten the town pread at the Cross o' Glasgow, and py

her troth she'll fight for Bailie Sharvie at the Clachan of Aberfoil--tat

will she e'en!" And seconding his words with deeds, this unexpected

auxiliary made his sword whistle about the ears of his tall countryman,

who, nothing abashed, returned his blows with interest. But being both

accoutred with round targets made of wood, studded with brass, and

covered with leather, with which they readily parried each other's

strokes, their combat was attended with much more noise and clatter than

serious risk of damage. It appeared, indeed, that there was more of

bravado than of serious attempt to do us any injury; for the Lowland

gentleman, who, as I mentioned, had stood aside for want of an antagonist

when the brawl commenced, was now pleased to act the part of moderator

and peacemaker.

[Illustration: Fray at Jeannie MacAlpine's--154]

"Hand your hands! haud your hands!--eneugh done!--eneugh done! the

quarrel's no mortal. The strange gentlemen have shown themselves men of

honour, and gien reasonable satisfaction. I'll stand on mine honour as

kittle as ony man, but I hate unnecessary bloodshed."

It was not, of course, my wish to protract the fray--my adversary seemed

equally disposed to sheathe his sword--the Bailie, gasping for breath,

might be considered as _hors de combat,_ and our two sword-and-buckler

men gave up their contest with as much indifference as they had entered

into it.

"And now," said the worthy gentleman who acted as umpire, "let us drink

and gree like honest fellows--The house will haud us a'. I propose that

this good little gentleman, that seems sair forfoughen, as I may say, in

this tuilzie, shall send for a tass o' brandy and I'll pay for another,

by way of archilowe,* and then we'll birl our bawbees a' round about,

like brethren."

"And fa's to pay my new ponnie plaid," said the larger Highlander, "wi' a

hole burnt in't ane might put a kail-pat through? Saw ever onybody a

decent gentleman fight wi' a firebrand before?"

"Let that be nae hinderance," said the Bailie, who had now recovered his

breath, and was at once disposed to enjoy the triumph of having behaved

with spirit, and avoid the necessity of again resorting to such hard and

doubtful arbitrament--"Gin I hae broken the head," he said, "I sall find

the plaister. A new plaid sall ye hae, and o' the best--your ain

clan-colours, man,--an ye will tell me where it can be sent t'ye frae

Glasco."

"I needna name my clan--I am of a king's clan, as is weel ken'd," said

the Highlander; "but ye may tak a bit o' the plaid--figh! she smells like

a singit sheep's head!--and that'll learn ye the sett--and a gentleman,

that's a cousin o' my ain, that carries eggs doun frae Glencroe, will ca'

for't about Martimas, an ye will tell her where ye bide. But, honest

gentleman, neist time ye fight, an ye hae ony respect for your

athversary, let it be wi' your sword, man, since ye wear ane, and no wi'

thae het culters and fireprands, like a wild Indian."

"Conscience!" replied the Bailie, "every man maun do as he dow. My sword

hasna seen the light since Bothwell Brigg, when my father that's dead and

gane, ware it; and I kenna weel if it was forthcoming then either, for

the battle was o' the briefest--At ony rate, it's glued to the scabbard

now beyond my power to part them; and, finding that, I e'en grippit at

the first thing I could make a fend wi'. I trow my fighting days is done,

though I like ill to take the scorn, for a' that.--But where's the honest

lad that tuik my quarrel on himself sae frankly?--I'se bestow a gill o'

aquavitae on him, an I suld never ca' for anither."

* Archilowe, of unknown derivation, signifies a peace-offering.

The champion for whom he looked around was, however, no longer to be

seen. He had escaped unobserved by the Bailie, immediately when the brawl

was ended, yet not before I had recognised, in his wild features and

shaggy red hair, our acquaintance Dougal, the fugitive turnkey of the

Glasgow jail. I communicated this observation in a whisper to the Bailie,

who answered in the same tone, "Weel, weel,--I see that him that ye ken

o' said very right; there _is_ some glimmering o' common sense about that

creature Dougal; I maun see and think o' something will do him some

gude."

Thus saying, he sat down, and fetching one or two deep aspirations, by

way of recovering his breath, called to the landlady--"I think, Luckie,

now that I find that there's nae hole in my wame, whilk I had muckle

reason to doubt frae the doings o' your house, I wad be the better o'

something to pit intill't."

The dame, who was all officiousness so soon as the storm had blown over,

immediately undertook to broil something comfortable for our supper.

Indeed, nothing surprised me more, in the course of the whole matter,

than the extreme calmness with which she and her household seemed to

regard the martial tumult that had taken place. The good woman was only

heard to call to some of her assistants--"Steek the door! steek the door!

kill or be killed, let naebody pass out till they hae paid the lawin."

And as for the slumberers in those lairs by the wall, which served the

family for beds, they only raised their shirtless bodies to look at the

fray, ejaculated, "Oigh! oigh!" in the tone suitable to their respective

sex and ages, and were, I believe, fast asleep again, ere our swords were

well returned to their scabbards.

Our landlady, however, now made a great bustle to get some victuals

ready, and, to my surprise, very soon began to prepare for us in the

frying-pan a savoury mess of venison collops, which she dressed in a

manner that might well satisfy hungry men, if not epicures. In the

meantime the brandy was placed on the table, to which the Highlanders,

however partial to their native strong waters, showed no objection, but

much the contrary; and the Lowland gentleman, after the first cup had

passed round, became desirous to know our profession, and the object of

our journey.

"We are bits o' Glasgow bodies, if it please your honour," said the

Bailie, with an affectation of great humility, "travelling to Stirling to

get in some siller that is awing us."

I was so silly as to feel a little disconcerted at the unassuming account

which he chose to give of us; but I recollected my promise to be silent,

and allow the Bailie to manage the matter his own way. And really, when I

recollected, Will, that I had not only brought the honest man a long

journey from home, which even in itself had been some inconvenience (if I

were to judge from the obvious pain and reluctance with which he took his

seat, or arose from it), but had also put him within a hair's-breadth of

the loss of his life, I could hardly refuse him such a compliment. The

spokesman of the other party, snuffing up his breath through his nose,

repeated the words with a sort of sneer;--"You Glasgow tradesfolks hae

naething to do but to gang frae the tae end o' the west o' Scotland to

the ither, to plague honest folks that may chance to be awee ahint the

hand, like me."

"If our debtors were a' sic honest gentlemen as I believe you to be,

Garschattachin," replied the Bailie, "conscience! we might save ourselves

a labour, for they wad come to seek us."

"Eh! what! how!" exclaimed the person whom he had addressed,--"as I shall

live by bread (not forgetting beef and brandy), it's my auld friend Nicol

Jarvie, the best man that ever counted doun merks on a band till a

distressed gentleman. Were ye na coming up my way?--were ye na coming up

the Endrick to Garschattachin?"

"Troth no, Maister Galbraith," replied the Bailie, "I had other eggs on

the spit--and I thought ye wad be saying I cam to look about the annual

rent that's due on the bit heritable band that's between us."

"Damn the annual rent!" said the laird, with an appearance of great

heartiness--"Deil a word o' business will you or I speak, now that ye're

so near my country. To see how a trot-cosey and a joseph can disguise a

man--that I suldna ken my auld feal friend the deacon!"

"The Bailie, if ye please," resumed my companion; "but I ken what gars ye

mistak--the band was granted to my father that's happy, and he was

deacon; but his name was Nicol as weel as mine. I dinna mind that there's

been a payment of principal sum or annual rent on it in my day, and

doubtless that has made the mistake."

"Weel, the devil take the mistake and all that occasioned it!" replied

Mr. Galbraith. "But I am glad ye are a bailie. Gentlemen, fill a

brimmer--this is my excellent friend, Bailie Nicol Jarvie's health--I

ken'd him and his father these twenty years. Are ye a' cleared kelty

aff?--Fill anither. Here's to his being sune provost--I say

provost--Lord Provost Nicol Jarvie!--and them that affirms there's a man

walks the Hie-street o' Glasgow that's fitter for the office, they will

do weel not to let me, Duncan Galbraith of Garschattachin, hear them say

sae--that's all." And therewith Duncan Galbraith martially cocked his

hat, and placed it on one side of his head with an air of defiance.

The brandy was probably the best recommendation of there complimentary

toasts to the two Highlanders, who drank them without appearing anxious

to comprehend their purport. They commenced a conversation with Mr.

Galbraith in Gaelic, which he talked with perfect fluency, being, as I

afterwards learned, a near neighbour to the Highlands.

"I ken'd that Scant-o'-grace weel eneugh frae the very outset," said the

Bailie, in a whisper to me; "but when blude was warm, and swords were out

at ony rate, wha kens what way he might hae thought o' paying his debts?

it will be lang or he does it in common form. But he's an honest lad, and

has a warm heart too; he disna come often to the Cross o' Glasgow, but

mony a buck and blackcock he sends us doun frae the hills. And I can want

my siller weel eneugh. My father the deacon had a great regard for the

family of Garschattachin."

Supper being now nearly ready, I looked round for Andrew Fairservice; but

that trusty follower had not been seen by any one since the beginning of

the rencontre. The hostess, however, said that she believed our servant

had gone into the stable, and offered to light me to the place, saying

that "no entreaties of the bairns or hers could make him give any answer;

and that truly she caredna to gang into the stable herself at this hour.

She was a lone woman, and it was weel ken'd how the Brownie of

Ben-ye-gask guided the gudewife of Ardnagowan; and it was aye judged

there was a Brownie in our stable, which was just what garr'd me gie ower

keeping an hostler."

As, however, she lighted me towards the miserable hovel into which they

had crammed our unlucky steeds, to regale themselves on hay, every fibre

of which was as thick as an ordinary goose-quill, she plainly showed me

that she had another reason for drawing me aside from the company than

that which her words implied. "Read that," she said, slipping a piece of

paper into my hand, as we arrived at the door of the shed; "I bless God I

am rid o't. Between sogers and Saxons, and caterans and cattle-lifters,

and hership and bluidshed, an honest woman wad live quieter in hell than

on the Hieland line."

So saying, she put the pine-torch into my hand, and returned into the

house,

CHAPTER TWELFTH.

Bagpipes, not lyres, the Highland hills adorn,

MacLean's loud hollo, and MacGregor's horn.

John Cooper's Reply to Allan Ramsay.

I stopped in the entrance of the stable, if indeed a place be entitled to

that name where horses were stowed away along with goats, poultry, pigs,

and cows, under the same roof with the mansion-house; although, by a

degree of refinement unknown to the rest of the hamlet, and which I

afterwards heard was imputed to an overpride on the part of Jeanie

MacAlpine, our landlady, the apartment was accommodated with an entrance

different from that used by her biped customers. By the light of my

torch, I deciphered the following billet, written on a wet, crumpled, and

dirty piece of paper, and addressed--"For the honoured hands of Mr. F.

O., a Saxon young gentleman--These." The contents were as follows:--

"Sir,

"There are night-hawks abroad, so that I cannot give you and my respected

kinsman, B. N. J., the meeting at the Clachan of Aberfoil, whilk was my

purpose. I pray you to avoid unnecessary communication with those you may

find there, as it may give future trouble. The person who gives you this

is faithful and may be trusted, and will guide you to a place where, God

willing, I may safely give you the meeting, when I trust my kinsman and

you will visit my poor house, where, in despite of my enemies, I can

still promise sic cheer as ane Hielandman may gie his friends, and where

we will drink a solemn health to a certain D. V., and look to certain

affairs whilk I hope to be your aidance in; and I rest, as is wont among

gentlemen,

your servant to command,

R. M. C."

I was a good deal mortified at the purport of this letter, which seemed

to adjourn to a more distant place and date the service which I had hoped

to receive from this man Campbell. Still, however, it was some comfort to

know that he continued to be in my interest, since without him I could

have no hope of recovering my father's papers. I resolved, therefore, to

obey his instructions; and, observing all caution before the guests, to

take the first good opportunity I could find to procure from the landlady

directions how I was to obtain a meeting with this mysterious person.

My next business was to seek out Andrew Fairservice, whom I called

several times by name, without receiving any answer, surveying the stable

all round, at the same time, not without risk of setting the premises on

fire, had not the quantity of wet litter and mud so greatly

counterbalanced two or three bunches of straw and hay. At length my

repeated cries of "Andrew Fairservice! Andrew! fool!--ass! where are

you?" produced a doleful "Here," in a groaning tone, which might have

been that of the Brownie itself. Guided by this sound, I advanced to the

corner of a shed, where, ensconced in the angle of the wall, behind a

barrel full of the feathers of all the fowls which had died in the cause

of the public for a month past, I found the manful Andrew; and partly by

force, partly by command and exhortation, compelled him forth into the

open air. The first words he spoke were, "I am an honest lad, sir."

"Who the devil questions your honesty?" said I, "or what have we to do

with it at present? I desire you to come and attend us at supper."

"Yes," reiterated Andrew, without apparently understanding what I said to

him, "I am an honest lad, whatever the Bailie may say to the contrary. I

grant the warld and the warld's gear sits ower near my heart whiles, as

it does to mony a ane--But I am an honest lad; and, though I spak o'

leaving ye in the muir, yet God knows it was far frae my purpose, but

just like idle things folk says when they're driving a bargain, to get it

as far to their ain side as they can--And I like your honour weel for sae

young a lad, and I wadna part wi' ye lightly."

"What the deuce are you driving at now?" I replied. "Has not everything

been settled again and again to your satisfaction? And are you to talk of

leaving me every hour, without either rhyme or reason?"

"Ay,--but I was only making fashion before," replied Andrew; "but it's

come on me in sair earnest now--Lose or win, I daur gae nae farther wi'

your honour; and if ye'll tak my foolish advice, ye'll bide by a broken

tryste, rather than gang forward yoursell. I hae a sincere regard for ye,

and I'm sure ye'll be a credit to your friends if ye live to saw out your

wild aits, and get some mair sense and steadiness--But I can follow ye

nae farther, even if ye suld founder and perish from the way for lack of

guidance and counsel. To gang into Rob Roy's country is a mere tempting

o' Providence."

"Rob Roy?" said I, in some surprise; "I know no such person. What new

trick is this, Andrew?"

"It's hard," said Andrew--"very hard, that a man canna be believed when

he speaks Heaven's truth, just because he's whiles owercome, and tells

lees a little when there is necessary occasion. Ye needna ask whae Rob

Roy is, the reiving lifter that he is--God forgie me! I hope naebody

hears us--when ye hae a letter frae him in your pouch. I heard ane o' his

gillies bid that auld rudas jaud of a gudewife gie ye that. They thought

I didna understand their gibberish; but, though I canna speak it muckle,

I can gie a gude guess at what I hear them say--I never thought to hae

tauld ye that, but in a fright a' things come out that suld be keepit in.

O, Maister Frank! a' your uncle's follies, and a' your cousin's pliskies,

were naething to this! Drink clean cap out, like Sir Hildebrand; begin

the blessed morning with brandy sops, like Squire Percy; swagger, like

Squire Thorncliff; rin wud amang the lasses, like Squire John; gamble,

like Richard; win souls to the Pope and the deevil, like Rashleigh; rive,

rant, break the Sabbath, and do the Pope's bidding, like them a' put

thegither--But, merciful Providence! take care o' your young bluid, and

gang nae near Rob Roy!"

Andrew's alarm was too sincere to permit me to suppose he counterfeited.

I contented myself, however, with telling him, that I meant to remain in

the alehouse that night, and desired to have the horses well looked

after. As to the rest, I charged him to observe the strictest silence

upon the subject of his alarm, and he might rely upon it I would not

incur any serious danger without due precaution. He followed me with a

dejected air into the house, observing between his teeth, "Man suld be

served afore beast--I haena had a morsel in my mouth, but the rough legs

o' that auld muircock, this haill blessed day."

The harmony of the company seemed to have suffered some interruption

since my departure, for I found Mr. Galbraith and my friend the Bailie

high in dispute.

"I'll hear nae sic language," said Mr. Jarvie, as I entered, "respecting

the Duke o' Argyle and the name o' Campbell. He's a worthy

public-spirited nobleman, and a credit to the country, and a friend and

benefactor to the trade o' Glasgow."

"I'll sae naething against MacCallum More and the Slioch-nan-Diarmid,"

said the lesser Highlander, laughing. "I live on the wrang side of

Glencroe to quarrel with Inverara."

"Our loch ne'er saw the Cawmil lymphads,"* said the bigger Highlander.

* _Lymphads._ The galley which the family of Argyle and others of the *

Clan Campbell carry in their arms.

"She'll speak her mind and fear naebody--She doesna value a Cawmil mair

as a Cowan, and ye may tell MacCallum More that Allan Iverach said sae--

It's a far cry to Lochow."*

* Lochow and the adjacent districts formed the original seat of the *

Campbells. The expression of a "far cry to Lochow" was proverbial.

Mr. Galbraith, on whom the repeated pledges which he had quaffed had

produced some influence, slapped his hand on the table with great force,

and said, in a stern voice, "There's a bloody debt due by that family,

and they will pay it one day--The banes of a loyal and a gallant Grahame

hae lang rattled in their coffin for vengeance on thae Dukes of Guile and

Lords for Lorn. There ne'er was treason in Scotland but a Cawmil was at

the bottom o't; and now that the wrang side's uppermost, wha but the

Cawmils for keeping down the right? But this warld winna last lang, and

it will be time to sharp the maiden* for shearing o' craigs and

thrapples. I hope to see the auld rusty lass linking at a bluidy harst

again."

* A rude kind of guillotine formerly used in Scotland.

"For shame, Garschattachin!" exclaimed the Bailie; "fy for shame, sir!

Wad ye say sic things before a magistrate, and bring yoursell into

trouble?--How d'ye think to mainteen your family and satisfy your

creditors (mysell and others), if ye gang on in that wild way, which

cannot but bring you under the law, to the prejudice of a' that's

connected wi' ye?"

"D--n my creditors!" retorted the gallant Galbraith, "and you if ye be

ane o' them! I say there will be a new warld sune--And we shall hae nae

Cawmils cocking their bonnet sae hie, and hounding their dogs where they

daurna come themsells, nor protecting thieves, nor murderers, and

oppressors, to harry and spoil better men and mair loyal clans than

themsells."

The Bailie had a great mind to have continued the dispute, when the

savoury vapour of the broiled venison, which our landlady now placed

before us, proved so powerful a mediator, that he betook himself to his

trencher with great eagerness, leaving the strangers to carry on the

dispute among themselves.

"And tat's true," said the taller Highlander--whose name I found was

Stewart--"for we suldna be plagued and worried here wi' meetings to pit

down Rob Roy, if the Cawmils didna gie him refutch. I was ane o' thirty

o' my ain name--part Glenfinlas, and part men that came down frae Appine.

We shased the MacGregors as ye wad shase rae-deer, till we came into

Glenfalloch's country, and the Cawmils raise, and wadna let us pursue nae

farder, and sae we lost our labour; but her wad gie twa and a plack to be

as near Rob as she was tat day."

It seemed to happen very unfortunately, that in every topic of discourse

which these warlike gentlemen introduced, my friend the Bailie found some

matter of offence. "Ye'll forgie me speaking my mind, sir; but ye wad

maybe hae gien the best bowl in your bonnet to hae been as far awae frae

Rob as ye are e'en now--Od! my het pleugh-culter wad hae been naething to

his claymore."

"She had better speak nae mair about her culter, or, by G--! her will gar

her eat her words, and twa handfuls o' cauld steel to drive them ower

wi'!" And, with a most inauspicious and menacing look, the mountaineer

laid his hand on his dagger.

"We'll hae nae quarrelling, Allan," said his shorter companion; "and if

the Glasgow gentleman has ony regard for Rob Roy, he'll maybe see him in

cauld irons the night, and playing tricks on a tow the morn; for this

country has been owre lang plagued wi' him, and his race is near-hand

run--And it's time, Allan, we were ganging to our lads."

"Hout awa, Inverashalloch," said Galbraith;--"Mind the auld saw, man--

It's a bauld moon, quoth Bennygask--another pint, quoth Lesley;--we'll no

start for another chappin."

"I hae had chappins eneugh," said Inverashalloch; "I'll drink my quart of

usquebaugh or brandy wi' ony honest fellow, but the deil a drap mair when

I hae wark to do in the morning. And, in my puir thinking,

Garschattachin, ye had better be thinking to bring up your horsemen to

the Clachan before day, that we may ay start fair."

"What the deevil are ye in sic a hurry for?" said Garschattachin; "meat

and mass never hindered wark. An it had been my directing, deil a bit o'

me wad hae fashed ye to come down the glens to help us. The garrison and

our ain horse could hae taen Rob Roy easily enough. There's the hand," he

said, holding up his own, "should lay him on the green, and never ask a

Hielandman o' ye a' for his help."

"Ye might hae loot us bide still where we were, then," said

Inverashalloch. "I didna come sixty miles without being sent for. But an

ye'll hae my opinion, I redd ye keep your mouth better steekit, if ye

hope to speed. Shored folk live lang, and sae may him ye ken o'. The way

to catch a bird is no to fling your bannet at her. And also thae

gentlemen hae heard some things they suldna hae heard, an the brandy

hadna been ower bauld for your brain, Major Galbraith. Ye needna cock

your hat and bully wi' me, man, for I will not bear it."

"I hae said it," said Galbraith, with a solemn air of drunken gravity,

"that I will quarrel no more this night either with broadcloth or tartan.

When I am off duty I'll quarrel with you or ony man in the Hielands or

Lowlands, but not on duty--no--no. I wish we heard o' these red-coats. If

it had been to do onything against King James, we wad hae seen them lang

syne--but when it's to keep the peace o' the country they can lie as

lound as their neighbours."

As he spoke we heard the measured footsteps of a body of infantry on the

march; and an officer, followed by two or three files of soldiers,

entered the apartment. He spoke in an English accent, which was very

pleasant to my ears, now so long accustomed to the varying brogue of the

Highland and Lowland Scotch.--"You are, I suppose, Major Galbraith, of

the squadron of Lennox Militia, and these are the two Highland gentlemen

with whom I was appointed to meet in this place?"

They assented, and invited the officer to take some refreshments, which

he declined.--"I have been too late, gentlemen, and am desirous to make

up time. I have orders to search for and arrest two persons guilty of

treasonable practices."

"We'll wash our hands o' that," said Inverashalloch. "I came here wi' my

men to fight against the red MacGregor that killed my cousin, seven times

removed, Duncan MacLaren, in Invernenty;* but I will hae nothing to do

touching honest gentlemen that may be gaun through the country on their

ain business."

* This, as appears from the introductory matter to this Tale, is an

anachronism. The slaughter of MacLaren, a retainer of the chief of

Appine, by the MacGregors, did not take place till after Rob Roy's death,

since it happened in 1736.

"Nor I neither," said Iverach.

Major Galbraith took up the matter more solemnly, and, premising his

oration with a hiccup, spoke to the following purpose:--

"I shall say nothing against King George, Captain, because, as it

happens, my commission may rin in his name--But one commission being

good, sir, does not make another bad; and some think that James may be

just as good a name as George. There's the king that is--and there's the

king that suld of right be--I say, an honest man may and suld be loyal to

them both, Captain. But I am of the Lord Lieutenant's opinion for the

time, as it becomes a militia officer and a depute-lieutenant--and about

treason and all that, it's lost time to speak of it--least said is sunest

mended."

"I am sorry to see how you have been employing your time, sir," replied

the English officer--as indeed the honest gentleman's reasoning had a

strong relish of the liquor he had been drinking--"and I could wish, sir,

it had been otherwise on an occasion of this consequence. I would

recommend to you to try to sleep for an hour.--Do these gentlemen belong

to your party?"--looking at the Bailie and me, who, engaged in eating our

supper, had paid little attention to the officer on his entrance.

"Travellers, sir," said Galbraith--"lawful travellers by sea and land, as

the prayer-book hath it."

"My instructions." said the Captain, taking a light to survey us closer,

"are to place under arrest an elderly and a young person--and I think

these gentlemen answer nearly the description."

"Take care what you say, sir," said Mr. Jarvie; "it shall not be your red

coat nor your laced hat shall protect you, if you put any affront on me.

I'se convene ye baith in an action of scandal and false imprisonment--I

am a free burgess and a magistrate o' Glasgow; Nicol Jarvie is my name,

sae was my father's afore me--I am a bailie, be praised for the honour,

and my father was a deacon."

"He was a prick-eared cur," said Major Galbraith, "and fought agane the

King at Bothwell Brigg."

"He paid what he ought and what he bought, Mr. Galbraith," said the

Bailie, "and was an honester man than ever stude on your shanks."

"I have no time to attend to all this," said the officer; "I must

positively detain you, gentlemen, unless you can produce some respectable

security that you are loyal subjects."

"I desire to be carried before some civil magistrate," said the

Bailie--"the sherra or the judge of the bounds;--I am not obliged to

answer every red-coat that speers questions at me."

"Well, sir, I shall know how to manage you if you are silent--And you,

sir" (to me), "what may your name be?"

"Francis Osbaldistone, sir."

"What, a son of Sir Hildebrand Osbaldistone of Northumberland?"

"No, sir," interrupted the Bailie; "a son of the great William

Osbaldistone of the House of Osbaldistone and Tresham, Crane-Alley,

London."

"I am afraid, sir," said the officer, "your name only increases the

suspicions against you, and lays me under the necessity of requesting

that you will give up what papers you have in charge."

I observed the Highlanders look anxiously at each other when this

proposal was made.

"I had none," I replied, "to surrender."

The officer commanded me to be disarmed and searched. To have resisted

would have been madness. I accordingly gave up my arms, and submitted to

a search, which was conducted as civilly as an operation of the kind well

could. They found nothing except the note which I had received that night

through the hand of the landlady.

"This is different from what I expected," said the officer; "but it

affords us good grounds for detaining you. Here I find you in written

communication with the outlawed robber, Robert MacGregor Campbell, who

has been so long the plague of this district--How do you account for

that?"

"Spies of Rob!" said Inverashalloch. "We wad serve them right to strap

them up till the neist tree."

"We are gaun to see after some gear o' our ain, gentlemen," said the

Bailie, "that's fa'en into his hands by accident--there's nae law agane a

man looking after his ain, I hope?"

"How did you come by this letter?" said the officer, addressing himself

to me.

I could not think of betraying the poor woman who had given it to me, and

remained silent.

"Do you know anything of it, fellow?" said the officer, looking at

Andrew, whose jaws were chattering like a pair of castanets at the

threats thrown out by the Highlander.

"O ay, I ken a' about it--it was a Hieland loon gied the letter to that

lang-tongued jaud the gudewife there; I'll be sworn my maister ken'd

naething about it. But he's wilfu' to gang up the hills and speak wi'

Rob; and oh, sir, it wad be a charity just to send a wheen o' your

red-coats to see him safe back to Glasgow again whether he will or

no--And ye can keep Mr. Jarvie as lang as ye like--He's responsible

enough for ony fine ye may lay on him--and so's my master for that

matter; for me, I'm just a puir gardener lad, and no worth your

steering."

"I believe," said the officer, "the best thing I can do is to send these

persons to the garrison under an escort. They seem to be in immediate

correspondence with the enemy, and I shall be in no respect answerable

for suffering them to be at liberty. Gentlemen, you will consider

yourselves as my prisoners. So soon as dawn approaches, I will send you

to a place of security. If you be the persons you describe yourselves, it

will soon appear, and you will sustain no great inconvenience from being

detained a day or two. I can hear no remonstrances," he continued,

turning away from the Bailie, whose mouth was open to address him; "the

service I am on gives me no time for idle discussions."

"Aweel, aweel, sir," said the Bailie, "you're welcome to a tune on your

ain fiddle; but see if I dinna gar ye dance till't afore a's dune."

An anxious consultation now took place between the officer and the

Highlanders, but carried on in so low a tone, that it was impossible to

catch the sense. So soon as it was concluded they all left the house. At

their departure, the Bailie thus expressed himself:--"Thae Hielandmen are

o' the westland clans, and just as light-handed as their neighbours, an

a' tales be true, and yet ye see they hae brought them frae the head o'

Argyleshire to make war wi' puir Rob for some auld ill-will that they hae

at him and his sirname. And there's the Grahames, and the Buchanans, and

the Lennox gentry, a' mounted and in order--It's weel ken'd their

quarrel; and I dinna blame them--naebody likes to lose his kye. And then

there's sodgers, puir things, hoyed out frae the garrison at a' body's

bidding--Puir Rob will hae his hands fu' by the time the sun comes ower

the hill. Weel--it's wrang for a magistrate to be wishing onything agane

the course o' justice, but deil o' me an I wad break my heart to hear

that Rob had gien them a' their paiks!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

--General,

Hear me, and mark me well, and look upon me

Directly in my face--my woman's face--

See if one fear, one shadow of a terror,

One paleness dare appear, but from my anger,

To lay hold on your mercies.

Bonduca.

We were permitted to slumber out the remainder of the night in the best

manner that the miserable accommodations of the alehouse permitted. The

Bailie, fatigued with his journey and the subsequent scenes--less

interested also in the event of our arrest, which to him could only be a

matter of temporary inconvenience--perhaps less nice than habit had

rendered me about the cleanliness or decency of his couch,--tumbled

himself into one of the cribs which I have already described, and soon

was heard to snore soundly. A broken sleep, snatched by intervals, while

I rested my head upon the table, was my only refreshment. In the course

of the night I had occasion to observe that there seemed to be some doubt

and hesitation in the motions of the soldiery. Men were sent out, as if

to obtain intelligence, and returned apparently without bringing any

satisfactory information to their commanding officer. He was obviously

eager and anxious, and again despatched small parties of two or three

men, some of whom, as I could understand from what the others whispered

to each other, did not return again to the Clachan.

The morning had broken, when a corporal and two men rushed into the hut,

dragging after them, in a sort of triumph, a Highlander, whom I

immediately recognised as my acquaintance the ex-turnkey. The Bailie, who

started up at the noise with which they entered, immediately made the

same discovery, and exclaimed--"Mercy on us! they hae grippit the puir

creature Dougal.--Captain, I will put in bail--sufficient bail, for that

Dougal creature."

To this offer, dictated undoubtedly by a grateful recollection of the

late interference of the Highlander in his behalf, the Captain only

answered by requesting Mr. Jarvie to "mind his own affairs, and remember

that he was himself for the present a prisoner."

"I take you to witness, Mr. Osbaldistone," said the Bailie, who was

probably better acquainted with the process in civil than in military

cases, "that he has refused sufficient bail. It's my opinion that the

creature Dougal will have a good action of wrongous imprisonment and

damages agane him, under the Act seventeen hundred and one, and I'll see

the creature righted."

The officer, whose name I understood was Thornton, paying no attention to

the Bailie's threats or expostulations, instituted a very close inquiry

into Dougal's life and conversation, and compelled him to admit, though

with apparent reluctance, the successive facts,--that he knew Rob Roy

MacGregor--that he had seen him within these twelve months--within these

six months--within this month--within this week; in fine, that he had

parted from him only an hour ago. All this detail came like drops of

blood from the prisoner, and was, to all appearance, only extorted by the

threat of a halter and the next tree, which Captain Thornton assured him

should be his doom, if he did not give direct and special information.

"And now, my friend," said the officer, "you will please inform me how

many men your master has with him at present."

Dougal looked in every direction except at the querist, and began to

answer, "She canna just be sure about that."

"Look at me, you Highland dog," said the officer, "and remember your life

depends on your answer. How many rogues had that outlawed scoundrel with

him when you left him?"

"Ou, no aboon sax rogues when I was gane."

"And where are the rest of his banditti?"

"Gane wi' the Lieutenant agane ta westland carles."

"Against the westland clans?" said the Captain. "Umph--that is likely

enough; and what rogue's errand were you despatched upon?"

"Just to see what your honour and ta gentlemen red-coats were doing doun

here at ta Clachan."

"The creature will prove fause-hearted, after a'," said the Bailie, who

by this time had planted himself close behind me; "it's lucky I didna pit

mysell to expenses anent him."

"And now, my friend," said the Captain, "let us understand each other.

You have confessed yourself a spy, and should string up to the next

tree--But come, if you will do me one good turn, I will do you another.

You, Donald--you shall just, in the way of kindness, carry me and a small

party to the place where you left your master, as I wish to speak a few

words with him on serious affairs; and I'll let you go about your

business, and give you five guineas to boot."

"Oigh! oigh!" exclaimed Dougal, in the extremity of distress and

perplexity; "she canna do tat--she canna do tat; she'll rather be

hanged."

"Hanged, then, you shall be, my friend" said the officer; "and your blood

be upon your own head. Corporal Cramp, do you play Provost-Marshal--away

with him!"

The corporal had confronted poor Dougal for some time, ostentatiously

twisting a piece of cord which he had found in the house into the form of

a halter. He now threw it about the culprit's neck, and, with the

assistance of two soldiers, had dragged Dougal as far as the door, when,

overcome with the terror of immediate death, he exclaimed, "Shentlemans,

stops--stops! She'll do his honour's bidding--stops!"

"Awa' wi' the creature!" said the Bailie, "he deserves hanging mair now

than ever; awa' wi' him, corporal. Why dinna ye tak him awa'?"

"It's my belief and opinion, honest gentleman," said the corporal, "that

if you were going to be hanged yourself, you would be in no such d--d

hurry."

This by-dialogue prevented my hearing what passed between the prisoner

and Captain Thornton; but I heard the former snivel out, in a very

subdued tone, "And ye'll ask her to gang nae farther than just to show ye

where the MacGregor is?--Ohon! ohon!"

"Silence your howling, you rascal--No; I give you my word I will ask you

to go no farther.--Corporal, make the men fall in, in front of the

houses. Get out these gentlemen's horses; we must carry them with us. I

cannot spare any men to guard them here. Come, my lads, get under arms."

The soldiers bustled about, and were ready to move. We were led out,

along with Dougal, in the capacity of prisoners. As we left the hut, I

heard our companion in captivity remind the Captain of "ta foive

kuineas."

"Here they are for you," said the officer, putting gold into his hand;

"but observe, that if you attempt to mislead me, I will blow your brains

out with my own hand."

"The creature," said the Bailie, "is waur than I judged him--it is a

warldly and a perfidious creature. O the filthy lucre of gain that men

gies themsells up to! My father the deacon used to say, the penny siller

slew mair souls than the naked sword slew bodies."

The landlady now approached, and demanded payment of her reckoning,

including all that had been quaffed by Major Galbraith and his Highland

friends. The English officer remonstrated, but Mrs. MacAlpine declared,

if "she hadna trusted to his honour's name being used in their company,

she wad never hae drawn them a stoup o' liquor; for Mr. Galbraith, she

might see him again, or she might no, but weel did she wot she had sma'

chance of seeing her siller--and she was a puir widow, had naething but

her custom to rely on."

Captain Thornton put a stop to her remonstrances by paying the charge,

which was only a few English shillings, though the amount sounded very

formidable in Scottish denominations. The generous officer would have

included Mr. Jarvie and me in this general acquittance; but the Bailie,

disregarding an intimation from the landlady to "make as muckle of the

Inglishers as we could, for they were sure to gie us plague eneugh," went

into a formal accounting respecting our share of the reckoning, and paid

it accordingly. The Captain took the opportunity to make us some slight

apology for detaining us. "If we were loyal and peaceable subjects," he

said, "we would not regret being stopt for a day, when it was essential

to the king's service; if otherwise, he was acting according to his

duty."

We were compelled to accept an apology which it would have served no

purpose to refuse, and we sallied out to attend him on his march.

I shall never forget the delightful sensation with which I exchanged the

dark, smoky, smothering atmosphere of the Highland hut, in which we had

passed the night so uncomfortably, for the refreshing fragrance of the

morning air, and the glorious beams of the rising sun, which, from a

tabernacle of purple and golden clouds, were darted full on such a scene

of natural romance and beauty as had never before greeted my eyes. To the

left lay the valley, down which the Forth wandered on its easterly

course, surrounding the beautiful detached hill, with all its garland of

woods. On the right, amid a profusion of thickets, knolls, and crags, lay

the bed of a broad mountain lake, lightly curled into tiny waves by the

breath of the morning breeze, each glittering in its course under the

influence of the sunbeams. High hills, rocks, and banks, waving with

natural forests of birch and oak, formed the borders of this enchanting

sheet of water; and, as their leaves rustled to the wind and twinkled in

the sun, gave to the depth of solitude a sort of life and vivacity. Man

alone seemed to be placed in a state of inferiority, in a scene where all

the ordinary features of nature were raised and exalted. The miserable

little _bourocks,_ as the Bailie termed them, of which about a dozen

formed the village called the Clachan of Aberfoil, were composed of loose

stones, cemented by clay instead of mortar, and thatched by turfs, laid

rudely upon rafters formed of native and unhewn birches and oaks from the

woods around. The roofs approached the ground so nearly, that Andrew

Fairservice observed we might have ridden over the village the night

before, and never found out we were near it, unless our horses' feet had

"gane through the riggin'."

From all we could see, Mrs. MacAlpine's house, miserable as were the

quarters it afforded, was still by far the best in the hamlet; and I dare

say (if my description gives you any curiosity to see it) you will hardly

find it much improved at the present day, for the Scotch are not a people

who speedily admit innovation, even when it comes in the shape of

improvement.*

* Note I. Clachan of Aberfoil.

The inhabitants of these miserable dwellings were disturbed by the noise

of our departure; and as our party of about twenty soldiers drew up in

rank before marching off, we were reconnoitred by many a beldam from the

half-opened door of her cottage. As these sibyls thrust forth their grey

heads, imperfectly covered with close caps of flannel, and showed their

shrivelled brows, and long skinny arms, with various gestures, shrugs,

and muttered expressions in Gaelic addressed to each other, my

imagination recurred to the witches of Macbeth, and I imagined I read in

the features of these crones the malevolence of the weird sisters. The

little children also, who began to crawl forth, some quite naked, and

others very imperfectly covered with tatters of tartan stuff, clapped

their tiny hands, and grinned at the English soldiers, with an expression

of national hate and malignity which seemed beyond their years. I

remarked particularly that there were no men, nor so much as a boy of ten

or twelve years old, to be seen among the inhabitants of a village which

seemed populous in proportion to its extent; and the idea certainly

occurred to me, that we were likely to receive from them, in the course

of our journey, more effectual tokens of ill-will than those which

lowered on the visages, and dictated the murmurs, of the women and

children. It was not until we commenced our march that the malignity of

the elder persons of the community broke forth into expressions. The last

file of men had left the village, to pursue a small broken track, formed

by the sledges in which the natives transported their peats and turfs,

and which led through the woods that fringed the lower end of the lake,

when a shrilly sound of female exclamation broke forth, mixed with the

screams of children, the whooping of boys, and the clapping of hands,

with which the Highland dames enforce their notes, whether of rage or

lamentation. I asked Andrew, who looked as pale as death, what all this

meant.

"I doubt we'll ken that ower sune," said he. "Means? It means that the

Highland wives are cursing and banning the red-coats, and wishing

ill-luck to them, and ilka ane that ever spoke the Saxon tongue. I have

heard wives flyte in England and Scotland--it's nae marvel to hear them

flyte ony gate; but sic ill-scrapit tongues as thae Highland

carlines'--and sic grewsome wishes, that men should be slaughtered like

sheep--and that they may lapper their hands to the elbows in their

heart's blude--and that they suld dee the death of Walter Cuming of

Guiyock,* wha hadna as muckle o' him left thegither as would supper a

messan-dog--sic awsome language as that I ne'er heard out o' a human

thrapple;--and, unless the deil wad rise amang them to gie them a

lesson, I thinkna that their talent at cursing could be amended.

* A great feudal oppressor, who, riding on some cruel purpose through the

forest of Guiyock, was thrown from his horse, and his foot being caught

in the stirrup, was dragged along by the frightened animal till he was

torn to pieces. The expression, "Walter of Guiyock's curse," is

proverbial.

The warst o't is, they bid us aye gang up the loch, and see what we'll

land in."

Adding Andrew's information to what I had myself observed, I could scarce

doubt that some attack was meditated upon our party. The road, as we

advanced, seemed to afford every facility for such an unpleasant

interruption. At first it winded apart from the lake through marshy

meadow ground, overgrown with copsewood, now traversing dark and close

thickets which would have admitted an ambuscade to be sheltered within a

few yards of our line of march, and frequently crossing rough mountain

torrents, some of which took the soldiers up to the knees, and ran with

such violence, that their force could only be stemmed by the strength of

two or three men holding fast by each other's arms. It certainly appeared

to me, though altogether unacquainted with military affairs, that a sort

of half-savage warriors, as I had heard the Highlanders asserted to be,

might, in such passes as these, attack a party of regular forces with

great advantage. The Bailie's good sense and shrewd observation had led

him to the same conclusion, as I understood from his requesting to speak

with the captain, whom he addressed nearly in the following terms:--

"Captain, it's no to fleech ony favour out o' ye, for I scorn it--and

it's under protest that I reserve my action and pleas of oppression and

wrongous imprisonment;--but, being a friend to King George and his army,

I take the liberty to speer--Dinna ye think ye might tak a better time to

gang up this glen? If ye are seeking Rob Roy, he's ken'd to be better

than half a hunder men strong when he's at the fewest; an if he brings in

the Glengyle folk, and the Glenfinlas and Balquhidder lads, he may come

to gie you your kail through the reek; and it's my sincere advice, as a

king's friend, ye had better tak back again to the Clachan, for thae

women at Aberfoil are like the scarts and seamaws at the Cumries--there's

aye foul weather follows their skirting."

"Make yourself easy, sir," replied Captain Thornton; "I am in the

execution of my orders. And as you say you are a friend to King George,

you will be glad to learn that it is impossible that this gang of

ruffians, whose license has disturbed the country so long, can escape the

measures now taken to suppress them. The horse squadron of militia,

commanded by Major Galbraith, is already joined by two or more troops of

cavalry, which will occupy all the lower passes of this wild country;

three hundred Highlanders, under the two gentlemen you saw at the inn,

are in possession of the upper part, and various strong parties from the

garrison are securing the hills and glens in different directions. Our

last accounts of Rob Roy correspond with what this fellow has confessed,

that, finding himself surrounded on all sides, he had dismissed the

greater part of his followers, with the purpose either of lying

concealed, or of making his escape through his superior knowledge of the

passes."

"I dinna ken," said the Bailie; "there's mair brandy than brains in

Garschattachin's head this morning--And I wadna, an I were you, Captain,

rest my main dependence on the Hielandmen--hawks winna pike out hawks'

een. They may quarrel among themsells, and gie ilk ither ill names, and

maybe a slash wi' a claymore; but they are sure to join in the lang run,

against a' civilised folk, that wear breeks on their hinder ends, and hae

purses in their pouches."

Apparently these admonitions were not altogether thrown away on Captain

Thornton. He reformed his line of march, commanded his soldiers to

unsling their firelocks and fix their bayonets, and formed an advanced

and rear-guard, each consisting of a non-commissioned officer and two

soldiers, who received strict orders to keep an alert look-out. Dougal

underwent another and very close examination, in which he steadfastly

asserted the truth of what he had before affirmed; and being rebuked on

account of the suspicious and dangerous appearance of the route by which

he was guiding them, he answered with a sort of testiness that seemed

very natural, "Her nainsell didna mak ta road; an shentlemans likit grand

roads, she suld hae pided at Glasco."

All this passed off well enough, and we resumed our progress.

Our route, though leading towards the lake, had hitherto been so much

shaded by wood, that we only from time to time obtained a glimpse of that

beautiful sheet of water. But the road now suddenly emerged from the

forest ground, and, winding close by the margin of the loch, afforded us

a full view of its spacious mirror, which now, the breeze having totally

subsided, reflected in still magnificence the high dark heathy mountains,

huge grey rocks, and shaggy banks, by which it is encircled. The hills

now sunk on its margin so closely, and were so broken and precipitous, as

to afford no passage except just upon the narrow line of the track which

we occupied, and which was overhung with rocks, from which we might have

been destroyed merely by rolling down stones, without much possibility of

offering resistance. Add to this, that, as the road winded round every

promontory and bay which indented the lake, there was rarely a

possibility of seeing a hundred yards before us. Our commander appeared

to take some alarm at the nature of the pass in which he was engaged,

which displayed itself in repeated orders to his soldiers to be on the

alert, and in many threats of instant death to Dougal, if he should be

found to have led them into danger. Dougal received these threats with an

air of stupid impenetrability, which might arise either from conscious

innocence, or from dogged resolution.

"If shentlemans were seeking ta Red Gregarach," he said, "to be sure they

couldna expect to find her without some wee danger."

Just as the Highlander uttered these words, a halt was made by the

corporal commanding the advance, who sent back one of the file who formed

it, to tell the Captain that the path in front was occupied by

Highlanders, stationed on a commanding point of particular difficulty.

Almost at the same instant a soldier from the rear came to say, that they

heard the sound of a bagpipe in the woods through which we had just

passed. Captain Thornton, a man of conduct as well as courage, instantly

resolved to force the pass in front, without waiting till he was assailed

from the rear; and, assuring his soldiers that the bagpipes which they

heard were those of the friendly Highlanders who were advancing to their

assistance, he stated to them the importance of advancing and securing

Rob Roy, if possible, before these auxiliaries should come up to divide

with them the honour, as well as the reward which was placed on the head

of this celebrated freebooter. He therefore ordered the rearguard to join

the centre, and both to close up to the advance, doubling his files so as

to occupy with his column the whole practicable part of the road, and to

present such a front as its breadth admitted. Dougal, to whom he said in

a whisper, "You dog, if you have deceived me, you shall die for it!" was

placed in the centre, between two grenadiers, with positive orders to

shoot him if he attempted an escape. The same situation was assigned to

us, as being the safest, and Captain Thornton, taking his half-pike from

the soldier who carried it, placed himself at the head of his little

detachment, and gave the word to march forward.

The party advanced with the firmness of English soldiers. Not so Andrew

Fairservice, who was frightened out of his wits; and not so, if truth

must be told, either the Bailie or I myself, who, without feeling the

same degree of trepidation, could not with stoical indifference see our

lives exposed to hazard in a quarrel with which we had no concern. But

there was neither time for remonstrance nor remedy.

We approached within about twenty yards of the spot where the advanced

guard had seen some appearance of an enemy. It was one of those

promontories which run into the lake, and round the base of which the

road had hitherto winded in the manner I have described. In the present

case, however, the path, instead of keeping the water's edge, sealed the

promontory by one or two rapid zigzags, carried in a broken track along

the precipitous face of a slaty grey rock, which would otherwise have

been absolutely inaccessible. On the top of this rock, only to be

approached by a road so broken, so narrow, and so precarious, the

corporal declared he had seen the bonnets and long-barrelled guns of

several mountaineers, apparently couched among the long heath and

brushwood which crested the eminence. Captain Thornton ordered him to

move forward with three files, to dislodge the supposed ambuscade, while,

at a more slow but steady pace, he advanced to his support with the rest

of his party.

The attack which he meditated was prevented by the unexpected apparition

of a female upon the summit of the rock.

"Stand!" she said, with a commanding tone, "and tell me what ye seek in

MacGregor's country?"

I have seldom seen a finer or more commanding form than this woman. She

might be between the term of forty and fifty years, and had a countenance

which must once have been of a masculine cast of beauty; though now,

imprinted with deep lines by exposure to rough weather, and perhaps by

the wasting influence of grief and passion, its features were only

strong, harsh, and expressive. She wore her plaid, not drawn around her

head and shoulders, as is the fashion of the women in Scotland, but

disposed around her body as the Highland soldiers wear theirs. She had a

man's bonnet, with a feather in it, an unsheathed sword in her hand, and

a pair of pistols at her girdle.

"It's Helen Campbell, Rob's wife," said the Bailie, in a whisper of

considerable alarm; "and there will be broken heads amang us or it's

lang."

"What seek ye here?" she asked again of Captain Thornton, who had himself

advanced to reconnoitre.

"We seek the outlaw, Rob Roy MacGregor Campbell," answered the officer,

"and make no war on women; therefore offer no vain opposition to the

king's troops, and assure yourself of civil treatment."

"Ay," retorted the Amazon, "I am no stranger to your tender mercies. Ye

have left me neither name nor fame--my mother's bones will shrink aside

in their grave when mine are laid beside them--Ye have left me neither

house nor hold, blanket nor bedding, cattle to feed us, or flocks to

clothe us--Ye have taken from us all--all!--The very name of our

ancestors have ye taken away, and now ye come for our lives."

"I seek no man's life," replied the Captain; "I only execute my orders.

If you are alone, good woman, you have nought to fear--if there are any

with you so rash as to offer useless resistance, their own blood be on

their own heads. Move forward, sergeant."

"Forward! march!" said the non-commissioned officer. "Huzza, my boys, for

Rob Roy's head and a purse of gold."

He quickened his pace into a run, followed by the six soldiers; but as

they attained the first traverse of the ascent, the flash of a dozen of

firelocks from various parts of the pass parted in quick succession and

deliberate aim. The sergeant, shot through the body, still struggled to

gain the ascent, raised himself by his hands to clamber up the face of

the rock, but relaxed his grasp, after a desperate effort, and falling,

rolled from the face of the cliff into the deep lake, where he perished.

Of the soldiers, three fell, slain or disabled; the others retreated on

their main body, all more or less wounded.

"Grenadiers, to the front!" said Captain Thornton.--You are to recollect,

that in those days this description of soldiers actually carried that

destructive species of firework from which they derive their name. The

four grenadiers moved to the front accordingly. The officer commanded the

rest of the party to be ready to support them, and only saying to us,

"Look to your safety, gentlemen," gave, in rapid succession, the word to

the grenadiers--"Open your pouches--handle your grenades--blow your

matches--fall on."

The whole advanced with a shout, headed by Captain Thornton,--the

grenadiers preparing to throw their grenades among the bushes where the

ambuscade lay, and the musketeers to support them by an instant and close

assault. Dougal, forgotten in the scuffle, wisely crept into the thicket

which overhung that part of the road where we had first halted, which he

ascended with the activity of a wild cat. I followed his example,

instinctively recollecting that the fire of the Highlanders would sweep

the open track. I clambered until out of breath; for a continued

spattering fire, in which every shot was multiplied by a thousand echoes,

the hissing of the kindled fusees of the grenades, and the successive

explosion of those missiles, mingled with the huzzas of the soldiers, and

the yells and cries of their Highland antagonists, formed a contrast

which added--I do not shame to own it--wings to my desire to reach a

place of safety. The difficulties of the ascent soon increased so much,

that I despaired of reaching Dougal, who seemed to swing himself from

rock to rock, and stump to stump, with the facility of a squirrel, and I

turned down my eyes to see what had become of my other companions. Both

were brought to a very awkward standstill.

The Bailie, to whom I suppose fear had given a temporary share of

agility, had ascended about twenty feet from the path, when his foot

slipping, as he straddled from one huge fragment of rock to another, he

would have slumbered with his father the deacon, whose acts and words he

was so fond of quoting, but for a projecting branch of a ragged thorn,

which, catching hold of the skirts of his riding-coat, supported him in

mid-air, where he dangled not unlike to the sign of the Golden Fleece

over the door of a mercer in the Trongate of his native city.

As for Andrew Fairservice, he had advanced with better success, until he

had attained the top of a bare cliff, which, rising above the wood,

exposed him, at least in his own opinion, to all the dangers of the

neighbouring skirmish, while, at the same time, it was of such a

precipitous and impracticable nature, that he dared neither to advance

nor retreat. Footing it up and down upon the narrow space which the top

of the cliff afforded (very like a fellow at a country-fair dancing upon

a trencher), he roared for mercy in Gaelic and English alternately,

according to the side on which the scale of victory seemed to

predominate, while his exclamations were only answered by the groans of

the Bailie, who suffered much, not only from apprehension, but from the

pendulous posture in which he hung suspended by the loins.

On perceiving the Bailie's precarious situation, my first idea was to

attempt to render him assistance; but this was impossible without the

concurrence of Andrew, whom neither sign, nor entreaty, nor command, nor

expostulation, could inspire with courage to adventure the descent from

his painful elevation, where, like an unskilful and obnoxious minister of

state, unable to escape from the eminence to which he had presumptuously

ascended, he continued to pour forth piteous prayers for mercy, which no

one heard, and to skip to and fro, writhing his body into all possible

antic shapes to avoid the balls which he conceived to be whistling around

him.

In a few minutes this cause of terror ceased, for the fire, at first so

well sustained, now sunk at once--a sure sign that the conflict was

concluded. To gain some spot from which I could see how the day had gone

was now my object, in order to appeal to the mercy of the victors, who, I

trusted (whichever side might be gainers), would not suffer the honest

Bailie to remain suspended, like the coffin of Mahomet, between heaven

and earth, without lending a hand to disengage him. At length, by dint of

scrambling, I found a spot which commanded a view of the field of battle.

It was indeed ended; and, as my mind already augured, from the place and

circumstances attending the contest, it had terminated in the defeat of

Captain Thornton. I saw a party of Highlanders in the act of disarming

that officer, and the scanty remainder of his party. They consisted of

about twelve men most of whom were wounded, who, surrounded by treble

their number, and without the power either to advance or retreat, exposed

to a murderous and well-aimed fire, which they had no means of returning

with effect, had at length laid down their arms by the order of their

officer, when he saw that the road in his rear was occupied, and that

protracted resistance would be only wasting the lives of his brave

followers. By the Highlanders, who fought under cover, the victory was

cheaply bought, at the expense of one man slain and two wounded by the

grenades. All this I learned afterwards. At present I only comprehended

the general result of the day, from seeing the English officer, whose

face was covered with blood, stripped of his hat and arms, and his men,

with sullen and dejected countenances which marked their deep regret,

enduring, from the wild and martial figures who surrounded them, the

severe measures to which the laws of war subject the vanquished for

security of the victors.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

"Woe to the vanquished!" was stern Brenno's word,

When sunk proud Rome beneath the Gallic sword--

"Woe to the vanquished!" when his massive blade

Bore down the scale against her ransom weigh'd;

And on the field of foughten battle still,

Woe knows no limits save the victor's will.

The Gaulliad.

I anxiously endeavoured to distinguish Dougal among the victors. I had

little doubt that the part he had played was assumed, on purpose to lead

the English officer into the defile, and I could not help admiring the

address with which the ignorant, and apparently half-brutal savage, had

veiled his purpose, and the affected reluctance with which he had

suffered to be extracted from him the false information which it must

have been his purpose from the beginning to communicate. I foresaw we

should incur some danger on approaching the victors in the first flush of

their success, which was not unstained with cruelty; for one or two of

the soldiers, whose wounds prevented them from rising, were poniarded by

the victors, or rather by some ragged Highland boys who had mingled with

them. I concluded, therefore, it would be unsafe to present ourselves

without some mediator; and as Campbell, whom I now could not but identify

with the celebrated freebooter Rob Roy, was nowhere to be seen, I

resolved to claim the protection of his emissary, Dougal.

After gazing everywhere in vain, I at length retraced my steps to see

what assistance I could individually render to my unlucky friend, when,

to my great joy, I saw Mr. Jarvie delivered from his state of suspense;

and though very black in the face, and much deranged in the garments,

safely seated beneath the rock, in front of which he had been so lately

suspended. I hastened to join him and offer my congratulations, which he

was at first far from receiving in the spirit of cordiality with which

they were offered. A heavy fit of coughing scarce permitted him breath

enough to express the broken hints which he threw out against my

sincerity.

"Uh! uh! uh! uh!--they say a friend--uh! uh!--a friend sticketh closer

than a brither--uh! uh! uh! When I came up here, Maister Osbaldistone, to

this country, cursed of God and man--uh! uh--Heaven forgie me for

swearing--on nae man's errand but yours, d'ye think it was fair--uh! uh!

uh!--to leave me, first, to be shot or drowned atween red-wad Highlanders

and red-coats; and next to be hung up between heaven and earth, like an

auld potato-bogle, without sae muckle as trying--uh! uh!--sae muckle as

trying to relieve me?"

I made a thousand apologies, and laboured so hard to represent the

impossibility of my affording him relief by my own unassisted exertions,

that at length I succeeded, and the Bailie, who was as placable as hasty

in his temper, extended his favour to me once more. I next took the

liberty of asking him how he had contrived to extricate himself.

"Me extricate! I might hae hung there till the day of judgment or I could

hae helped mysell, wi' my head hinging down on the tae side, and my heels

on the tother, like the yarn-scales in the weigh-house. It was the

creature Dougal that extricated me, as he did yestreen; he cuttit aff the

tails o' my coat wi' his durk, and another gillie and him set me on my

legs as cleverly as if I had never been aff them. But to see what a thing

gude braid claith is! Had I been in ony o' your rotten French camlets

now, or your drab-de-berries, it would hae screeded like an auld rag wi'

sic a weight as mine. But fair fa' the weaver that wrought the weft

o't--I swung and bobbit yonder as safe as a gabbart* that's moored by a

three-ply cable at the Broomielaw."

* A kind of lighter used in the river Clyde,--probably from the French *

_abare._

I now inquired what had become of his preserver.

"The creature," so he continued to call the Highlandman, "contrived to

let me ken there wad be danger in gaun near the leddy till he came back,

and bade me stay here. I am o' the mind," he continued, "that he's

seeking after you--it's a considerate creature--and troth, I wad swear he

was right about the leddy, as he ca's her, too--Helen Campbell was nane

o' the maist douce maidens, nor meekest wives neither, and folk say that

Rob himsell stands in awe o' her. I doubt she winna ken me, for it's mony

years since we met--I am clear for waiting for the Dougal creature or we

gang near her."

I signified my acquiescence in this reasoning; but it was not the will of

fate that day that the Bailie's prudence should profit himself or any one

else.

Andrew Fairservice, though he had ceased to caper on the pinnacle upon

the cessation of the firing, which had given occasion for his whimsical

exercise, continued, as perched on the top of an exposed cliff, too

conspicuous an object to escape the sharp eyes of the Highlanders, when

they had time to look a little around them. We were apprized he was

discovered, by a wild and loud halloo set up among the assembled victors,

three or four of whom instantly plunged into the copsewood, and ascended

the rocky side of the hill in different directions towards the place

where they had discovered this whimsical apparition.

Those who arrived first within gunshot of poor Andrew, did not trouble

themselves to offer him any assistance in the ticklish posture of his

affairs, but levelling their long Spanish-barrelled guns, gave him to

understand, by signs which admitted of no misconstruction, that he must

contrive to come down and submit himself to their mercy, or to be marked

at from beneath, like a regimental target set up for ball-practice. With

such a formidable hint for venturous exertion, Andrew Fairservice could

no longer hesitate; the more imminent peril overcame his sense of that

which seemed less inevitable, and he began to descend the cliff at all

risks, clutching to the ivy and oak stumps, and projecting fragments of

rock, with an almost feverish anxiety, and never failing, as

circumstances left him a hand at liberty, to extend it to the plaided

gentry below in an attitude of supplication, as if to deprecate the

discharge of their levelled firearms. In a word, the fellow, under the

influence of a counteracting motive for terror, achieved a safe descent

from his perilous eminence, which, I verily believe, nothing but the fear

of instant death could have moved him to attempt. The awkward mode of

Andrew's descent greatly amused the Highlanders below, who fired a shot

or two while he was engaged in it, without the purpose of injuring him,

as I believe, but merely to enhance the amusement they derived from his

extreme terror, and the superlative exertions of agility to which it

excited him.

At length he attained firm and comparatively level ground--or rather, to

speak more correctly, his foot slipping at the last point of descent, he

fell on the earth at his full length, and was raised by the assistance of

the Highlanders, who stood to receive him, and who, ere he gained his

legs, stripped him not only of the whole contents of his pockets, but of

periwig, hat, coat, doublet, stockings, and shoes, performing the feat

with such admirable celerity, that, although he fell on his back a

well-clothed and decent burgher-seeming serving-man, he arose a forked,

uncased, bald-pated, beggarly-looking scarecrow. Without respect to the

pain which his undefended toes experienced from the sharp encounter of

the rocks over which they hurried him, those who had detected Andrew

proceeded to drag him downward towards the road through all the

intervening obstacles.

In the course of their descent, Mr. Jarvie and I became exposed to their

lynx-eyed observation, and instantly half-a-dozen of armed Highlanders

thronged around us, with drawn dirks and swords pointed at our faces and

throats, and cocked pistols presented against our bodies. To have offered

resistance would have been madness, especially as we had no weapons

capable of supporting such a demonstration. We therefore submitted to our

fate; and with great roughness on the part of those who assisted at our

toilette, were in the act of being reduced to as unsophisticated a state

(to use King Lear's phrase) as the plume-less biped Andrew Fairservice,

who stood shivering between fear and cold at a few yards' distance. Good

chance, however, saved us from this extremity of wretchedness; for, just

as I had yielded up my cravat (a smart Steinkirk, by the way, and richly

laced), and the Bailie had been disrobed of the fragments of his

riding-coat--enter Dougal, and the scene was changed. By a high tone of

expostulation, mixed with oaths and threats, as far as I could conjecture

the tenor of his language from the violence of his gestures, he compelled

the plunderers, however reluctant, not only to give up their further

depredations on our property, but to restore the spoil they had already

appropriated. He snatched my cravat from the fellow who had seized it,

and twisted it (in the zeal of his restitution) around my neck with such

suffocating energy as made me think that he had not only been, during his

residence at Glasgow, a substitute of the jailor, but must moreover have

taken lessons as an apprentice of the hangman. He flung the tattered

remnants of Mr. Jarvie's coat around his shoulders, and as more

Highlanders began to flock towards us from the high road, he led the way

downwards, directing and commanding the others to afford us, but

particularly the Bailie, the assistance necessary to our descending with

comparative ease and safety. It was, however, in vain that Andrew

Fairservice employed his lungs in obsecrating a share of Dougal's

protection, or at least his interference to procure restoration of his

shoes.

"Na, na," said Dougal in reply, "she's nae gentle pody, I trow; her

petters hae ganged parefoot, or she's muckle mista'en." And, leaving

Andrew to follow at his leisure, or rather at such leisure as the

surrounding crowd were pleased to indulge him with, he hurried us down to

the pathway in which the skirmish had been fought, and hastened to

present us as additional captives to the female leader of his band.

We were dragged before her accordingly, Dougal fighting, struggling,

screaming, as if he were the party most apprehensive of hurt, and

repulsing, by threats and efforts, all those who attempted to take a

nearer interest in our capture than he seemed to do himself. At length we

were placed before the heroine of the day, whose appearance, as well as

those of the savage, uncouth, yet martial figures who surrounded us,

struck me, to own the truth, with considerable apprehension. I do not

know if Helen MacGregor had personally mingled in the fray, and indeed I

was afterwards given to understand the contrary; but the specks of blood

on her brow, her hands and naked arms, as well as on the blade of her

sword which she continued to hold in her hand--her flushed countenance,

and the disordered state of the raven locks which escaped from under the

red bonnet and plume that formed her head-dress, seemed all to intimate

that she had taken an immediate share in the conflict. Her keen black

eyes and features expressed an imagination inflamed by the pride of

gratified revenge, and the triumph of victory. Yet there was nothing

positively sanguinary, or cruel, in her deportment; and she reminded me,

when the immediate alarm of the interview was over, of some of the

paintings I had seen of the inspired heroines in the Catholic churches of

France. She was not, indeed, sufficiently beautiful for a Judith, nor had

she the inspired expression of features which painters have given to

Deborah, or to the wife of Heber the Kenite, at whose feet the strong

oppressor of Israel, who dwelled in Harosheth of the Gentiles, bowed

down, fell, and lay a dead man. Nevertheless, the enthusiasm by which she

was agitated gave her countenance and deportment, wildly dignified in

themselves, an air which made her approach nearly to the ideas of those

wonderful artists who gave to the eye the heroines of Scripture history.

I was uncertain in what terms to accost a personage so uncommon, when Mr.

Jarvie, breaking the ice with a preparatory cough (for the speed with

which he had been brought into her presence had again impeded his

respiration), addressed her as follows:--"Uh! uh! &c. &c. I am very happy

to have this _joyful_ opportunity" (a quaver in his voice strongly belied

the emphasis which he studiously laid on the word joyful)--"this joyful

occasion," he resumed, trying to give the adjective a more suitable

accentuation, "to wish my kinsman Robin's wife a very good morning--Uh!

uh!--How's a' wi' ye?" (by this time he had talked himself into his usual

jog-trot manner, which exhibited a mixture of familiarity and

self-importance)--"How's a' wi' ye this lang time? Ye'll hae forgotten

me, Mrs. MacGregor Campbell, as your cousin--uh! uh!--but ye'll mind my

father, Deacon Nicol Jarvie, in the Saut Market o' Glasgow?--an honest

man he was, and a sponsible, and respectit you and yours. Sae, as I said

before, I am right glad to see you, Mrs. MacGregor Campbell, as my

kinsman's wife. I wad crave the liberty of a kinsman to salute you, but

that your gillies keep such a dolefu' fast haud o' my arms, and, to speak

Heaven's truth and a magistrate's, ye wadna be the waur of a cogfu' o'

water before ye welcomed your friends."

There was something in the familiarity of this introduction which ill

suited the exalted state of temper of the person to whom it was

addressed, then busied with distributing dooms of death, and warm from

conquest in a perilous encounter.

"What fellow are you," she said, "that dare to claim kindred with the

MacGregor, and neither wear his dress nor speak his language?--What are

you, that have the tongue and the habit of the hound, and yet seek to lie

down with the deer?"

"I dinna ken," said the undaunted Bailie, "if the kindred has ever been

weel redd out to you yet, cousin--but it's ken'd, and can be prov'd. My

mother, Elspeth MacFarlane, was the wife of my father, Deacon Nicol

Jarvie--peace be wi' them baith!--and Elspeth was the daughter of Parlane

MacFarlane, at the Sheeling o' Loch Sloy. Now, this Parlane MacFarlane,

as his surviving daughter Maggy MacFarlane, _alias_ MacNab, wha married

Duncan MacNab o' Stuckavrallachan, can testify, stood as near to your

gudeman, Robert MacGregor, as in the fourth degree of kindred, for"--

The virago lopped the genealogical tree, by demanding haughtily, "If a

stream of rushing water acknowledged any relation with the portion

withdrawn from it for the mean domestic uses of those who dwelt on its

banks?"

"Vera true, kinswoman," said the Bailie; "but for a' that, the burn wad

be glad to hae the milldam back again in simmer, when the chuckie-stanes

are white in the sun. I ken weel eneugh you Hieland folk haud us Glasgow

people light and cheap for our language and our claes;--but everybody

speaks their native tongue that they learned in infancy; and it would be

a daft-like thing to see me wi' my fat wame in a short Hieland coat, and

my puir short houghs gartered below the knee, like ane o' your

lang-legged gillies. Mair by token, kinswoman," he continued, in defiance

of various intimations by which Dougal seemed to recommend silence, as

well as of the marks of impatience which the Amazon evinced at his

loquacity, "I wad hae ye to mind that the king's errand whiles comes in

the cadger's gate, and that, for as high as ye may think o' the gudeman,

as it's right every wife should honour her husband--there's Scripture

warrant for that--yet as high as ye haud him, as I was saying, I hae been

serviceable to Rob ere now;--forbye a set o' pearlins I sent yourself

when ye was gaun to be married, and when Rob was an honest weel-doing

drover, and nane o' this unlawfu' wark, wi' fighting, and flashes, and

fluff-gibs, disturbing the king's peace and disarming his soldiers."

He had apparently touched on a key which his kinswoman could not brook.

She drew herself up to her full height, and betrayed the acuteness of her

feelings by a laugh of mingled scorn and bitterness.

"Yes," she said, "you, and such as you, might claim a relation to us,

when we stooped to be the paltry wretches fit to exist under your

dominion, as your hewers of wood and drawers of water--to find cattle for

your banquets, and subjects for your laws to oppress and trample on. But

now we are free--free by the very act which left us neither house nor

hearth, food nor covering--which bereaved me of all--of all--and makes me

groan when I think I must still cumber the earth for other purposes than

those of vengeance. And I will carry on the work, this day has so well

commenced, by a deed that shall break all bands between MacGregor and the

Lowland churls. Here Allan--Dougal--bind these Sassenachs neck and heel

together, and throw them into the Highland Loch to seek for their

Highland kinsfolk."

The Bailie, alarmed at this mandate, was commencing an expostulation,

which probably would have only inflamed the violent passions of the

person whom he addressed, when Dougal threw himself between them, and in

his own language, which he spoke with a fluency and rapidity strongly

contrasted by the slow, imperfect, and idiot-like manner in which he

expressed himself in English, poured forth what I doubt not was a very

animated pleading in our behalf.

His mistress replied to him, or rather cut short his harangue, by

exclaiming in English (as if determined to make us taste in anticipation

the full bitterness of death)--"Base dog, and son of a dog, do you

dispute my commands? Should I tell ye to cut out their tongues and put

them into each other's throats, to try which would there best knap

Southron, or to tear out their hearts and put them into each other's

breasts, to see which would there best plot treason against the

MacGregor--and such things have been done of old in the day of revenge,

when our fathers had wrongs to redress--Should I command you to do this,

would it be your part to dispute my orders?"

"To be sure, to be sure," Dougal replied, with accents of profound

submission; "her pleasure suld be done--tat's but reason; but an it

were--tat is, an it could be thought the same to her to coup the

ill-faured loon of ta red-coat Captain, and hims corporal Cramp, and twa

three o' the red-coats, into the loch, herself wad do't wi' muckle mair

great satisfaction than to hurt ta honest civil shentlemans as were

friends to the Gregarach, and came up on the Chiefs assurance, and not

to do no treason, as herself could testify."

The lady was about to reply, when a few wild strains of a pibroch were

heard advancing up the road from Aberfoil, the same probably which had

reached the ears of Captain Thornton's rear-guard, and determined him to

force his way onward rather than return to the village, on finding the

pass occupied. The skirmish being of very short duration, the armed men

who followed this martial melody, had not, although quickening their

march when they heard the firing, been able to arrive in time sufficient

to take any share in the rencontre. The victory, therefore, was complete

without them, and they now arrived only to share in the triumph of their

countrymen.

There was a marked difference betwixt the appearance of these new comers

and that of the party by which our escort had been defeated--and it was

greatly in favour of the former. Among the Highlanders who surrounded the

Chieftainess, if I may presume to call her so without offence to grammar,

were men in the extremity of age, boys scarce able to bear a sword, and

even women--all, in short, whom the last necessity urges to take up arms;

and it added a shade of bitter shame to the defection which clouded

Thornton's manly countenance, when he found that the numbers and position

of a foe, otherwise so despicable, had enabled them to conquer his brave

veterans. But the thirty or forty Highlanders who now joined the others,

were all men in the prime of youth or manhood, active clean-made fellows,

whose short hose and belted plaids set out their sinewy limbs to the best

advantage. Their arms were as superior to those of the first party as

their dress and appearance. The followers of the female Chief had axes,

scythes, and other antique weapons, in aid of their guns; and some had

only clubs, daggers, and long knives. But of the second party, most had

pistols at the belt, and almost all had dirks hanging at the pouches

which they wore in front. Each had a good gun in his hand, and a

broadsword by his side, besides a stout round target, made of light wood,

covered with leather, and curiously studded with brass, and having a

steel spike screwed into the centre. These hung on their left shoulder

during a march, or while they were engaged in exchanging fire with the

enemy, and were worn on their left arm when they charged with sword in

hand.

But it was easy to see that this chosen band had not arrived from a

victory such as they found their ill-appointed companions possessed of.

The pibroch sent forth occasionally a few wailing notes expressive of a

very different sentiment from triumph; and when they appeared before the

wife of their Chieftain, it was in silence, and with downcast and

melancholy looks. They paused when they approached her, and the pipes

again sent forth the same wild and melancholy strain.

Helen rushed towards them with a countenance in which anger was mingled

with apprehension.--"What means this, Alaster?" she said to the

minstrel--"why a lament in the moment of victory?--Robert--Hamish--where's

the MacGregor?--where's your father?"

Her sons, who led the band, advanced with slow and irresolute steps

towards her, and murmured a few words in Gaelic, at hearing which she set

up a shriek that made the rocks ring again, in which all the women and

boys joined, clapping their hands and yelling as if their lives had been

expiring in the sound. The mountain echoes, silent since the military

sounds of battle had ceased, had now to answer these frantic and

discordant shrieks of sorrow, which drove the very night-birds from their

haunts in the rocks, as if they were startled to hear orgies more hideous

and ill-omened than their own, performed in the face of open day.

"Taken!" repeated Helen, when the clamour had subsided--"Taken!--

captive!--and you live to say so?--Coward dogs! did I nurse you for this,

that you should spare your blood on your father's enemies? or see him

prisoner, and come back to tell it?"

The sons of MacGregor, to whom this expostulation was addressed, were

youths, of whom the eldest had hardly attained his twentieth year.

_Hamish,_ or James, the elder of these youths, was the tallest by a head,

and much handsomer than his brother; his light-blue eyes, with a

profusion of fair hair, which streamed from under his smart blue bonnet,

made his whole appearance a most favourable specimen of the Highland

youth. The younger was called Robert; but, to distinguish him from his

father, the Highlanders added the epithet _Oig,_ or the young. Dark hair,

and dark features, with a ruddy glow of health and animation, and a form

strong and well-set beyond his years, completed the sketch of the young

mountaineer.

Both now stood before their mother with countenances clouded with grief

and shame, and listened, with the most respectful submission, to the

reproaches with which she loaded them. At length when her resentment

appeared in some degree to subside, the eldest, speaking in English,

probably that he might not be understood by their followers, endeavoured

respectfully to vindicate himself and his brother from his mother's

reproaches. I was so near him as to comprehend much of what he said; and,

as it was of great consequence to me to be possessed of information in

this strange crisis, I failed not to listen as attentively as I could.

"The MacGregor," his son stated, "had been called out upon a trysting

with a Lowland hallion, who came with a token from"--he muttered the name

very low, but I thought it sounded like my own. "The MacGregor," he said,

"accepted of the invitation, but commanded the Saxon who brought the

message to be detained, as a hostage that good faith should be observed

to him. Accordingly he went to the place of appointment" (which had some

wild Highland name that I cannot remember), "attended only by Angus Breck

and Little Rory, commanding no one to follow him. Within half an hour

Angus Breck came back with the doleful tidings that the MacGregor had

been surprised and made prisoner by a party of Lennox militia, under

Galbraith of Garschattachin." He added, "that Galbraith, on being

threatened by MacGregor, who upon his capture menaced him with

retaliation on the person of the hostage, had treated the threat with

great contempt, replying, 'Let each side hang his man; we'll hang the

thief, and your catherans may hang the gauger, Rob, and the country will

be rid of two damned things at once, a wild Highlander and a revenue

officer.' Angus Breck, less carefully looked to than his master,

contrived to escape from the hands of the captors, after having been in

their custody long enough to hear this discussion, and to bring off the

news."

"And did you learn this, you false-hearted traitor," said the wife of

MacGregor, "and not instantly rush to your father's rescue, to bring him

off, or leave your body on the place?"

The young MacGregor modestly replied, by representing the very superior

force of the enemy, and stated, that as they made no preparation for

leaving the country, he had fallen back up the glen with the purpose of

collecting a band sufficient to attempt a rescue with some tolerable

chance of success. At length he said, "the militiamen would quarter, he

understood, in the neighbouring house of Gartartan, or the old castle in

the port of Monteith, or some other stronghold, which, although strong

and defensible, was nevertheless capable of being surprised, could they

but get enough of men assembled for the purpose."

I understood afterwards that the rest of the freebooter's followers were

divided into two strong bands, one destined to watch the remaining

garrison of Inversnaid, a party of which, under Captain Thornton, had

been defeated; and another to show front to the Highland clans who had

united with the regular troops and Lowlanders in this hostile and

combined invasion of that mountainous and desolate territory, which lying

between the lakes of Loch Lomond, Loch Katrine, and Loch Ard, was at this

time currently called Rob Roy's, or the MacGregor country. Messengers

were despatched in great haste, to concentrate, as I supposed, their

forces, with a view to the purposed attack on the Lowlanders; and the

dejection and despair, at first visible on each countenance, gave place

to the hope of rescuing their leader, and to the thirst of vengeance. It

was under the burning influence of the latter passion that the wife of

MacGregor commanded that the hostage exchanged for his safety should be

brought into her presence. I believe her sons had kept this unfortunate

wretch out of her sight, for fear of the consequences; but if it was so,

their humane precaution only postponed his fate. They dragged forward at

her summons a wretch already half dead with terror, in whose agonised

features I recognised, to my horror and astonishment, my old acquaintance

Morris.

He fell prostrate before the female Chief with an effort to clasp her

knees, from which she drew back, as if his touch had been pollution, so

that all he could do in token of the extremity of his humiliation, was to

kiss the hem of her plaid. I never heard entreaties for life poured forth

with such agony of spirit. The ecstasy of fear was such, that instead of

paralysing his tongue, as on ordinary occasions, it even rendered him

eloquent; and, with cheeks pale as ashes, hands compressed in agony, eyes

that seemed to be taking their last look of all mortal objects, he

protested, with the deepest oaths, his total ignorance of any design on

the person of Rob Roy, whom he swore he loved and honoured as his own

soul. In the inconsistency of his terror, he said he was but the agent of

others, and he muttered the name of Rashleigh. He prayed but for

life--for life he would give all he had in the world: it was but life he

asked--life, if it were to be prolonged under tortures and privations:

he asked only breath, though it should be drawn in the damps of the

lowest caverns of their hills.

It is impossible to describe the scorn, the loathing, and contempt, with

which the wife of MacGregor regarded this wretched petitioner for the

poor boon of existence.

"I could have bid ye live," she said, "had life been to you the same

weary and wasting burden that it is to me--that it is to every noble and

generous mind. But you--wretch! you could creep through the world

unaffected by its various disgraces, its ineffable miseries, its

constantly accumulating masses of crime and sorrow: you could live and

enjoy yourself, while the noble-minded are betrayed--while nameless and

birthless villains tread on the neck of the brave and the long-descended:

you could enjoy yourself, like a butcher's dog in the shambles, battening

on garbage, while the slaughter of the oldest and best went on around

you! This enjoyment you shall not live to partake of!--you shall die,

base dog! and that before yon cloud has passed over the sun."

She gave a brief command in Gaelic to her attendants, two of whom seized

upon the prostrate suppliant, and hurried him to the brink of a cliff

which overhung the flood. He set up the most piercing and dreadful cries

that fear ever uttered--I may well term them dreadful, for they haunted

my sleep for years afterwards. As the murderers, or executioners, call

them as you will, dragged him along, he recognised me even in that moment

of horror, and exclaimed, in the last articulate words I ever heard him

utter, "Oh, Mr. Osbaldistone, save me!--save me!"

I was so much moved by this horrid spectacle, that, although in momentary

expectation of sharing his fate, I did attempt to speak in his behalf,

but, as might have been expected, my interference was sternly

disregarded. The victim was held fast by some, while others, binding a

large heavy stone in a plaid, tied it round his neck, and others again

eagerly stripped him of some part of his dress. Half-naked, and thus

manacled, they hurled him into the lake, there about twelve feet deep,

with a loud halloo of vindictive triumph,--above which, however, his last

death-shriek, the yell of mortal agony, was distinctly heard. The heavy

burden splashed in the dark-blue waters, and the Highlanders, with their

pole-axes and swords, watched an instant to guard, lest, extricating

himself from the load to which he was attached, the victim might have

struggled to regain the shore. But the knot had been securely bound--the

wretched man sunk without effort; the waters, which his fall had

disturbed, settled calmly over him, and the unit of that life for which

he had pleaded so strongly, was for ever withdrawn from the sum of human

existence.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

And be he safe restored ere evening set,

Or, if there's vengeance in an injured heart,

And power to wreak it in an armed hand,

Your land shall ache for't.

Old Play.

I know not why it is that a single deed of violence and cruelty affects

our nerves more than when these are exercised on a more extended scale. I

had seen that day several of my brave countrymen fall in battle: it

seemed to me that they met a lot appropriate to humanity, and my bosom,

though thrilling with interest, was affected with nothing of that

sickening horror with which I beheld the unfortunate Morris put to death

without resistance, and in cold blood. I looked at my companion, Mr.

Jarvie, whose face reflected the feelings which were painted in mine.

Indeed he could not so suppress his horror, but that the words escaped

him in a low and broken whisper,--

"I take up my protest against this deed, as a bloody and cruel murder--it

is a cursed deed, and God will avenge it in his due way and time."

"Then you do not fear to follow?" said the virago, bending on him a look

of death, such as that with which a hawk looks at his prey ere he

pounces.

"Kinswoman," said the Bailie, "nae man willingly wad cut short his thread

of life before the end o' his pirn was fairly measured off on the

yarn-winles--And I hae muckle to do, an I be spared, in this

warld--public and private business, as weel that belonging to the

magistracy as to my ain particular; and nae doubt I hae some to depend

on me, as puir Mattie, wha is an orphan--She's a far-awa' cousin o' the

Laird o' Limmerfield. Sae that, laying a' this thegither--skin for skin,

yea all that a man hath, will he give for his life."

"And were I to set you at liberty," said the imperious dame, "what name

could you give to the drowning of that Saxon dog?"

"Uh! uh!--hem! hem!" said the Bailie, clearing his throat as well as he

could, "I suld study to say as little on that score as might be--least

said is sunest mended."

"But if you were called on by the courts, as you term them, of justice,"

she again demanded, "what then would be your answer?"

The Bailie looked this way and that way, like a person who meditates an

escape, and then answered in the tone of one who, seeing no means of

accomplishing a retreat, determines to stand the brunt of battle--"I see

what you are driving me to the wa' about. But I'll tell you't plain,

kinswoman,--I behoved just to speak according to my ain conscience; and

though your ain gudeman, that I wish had been here for his ain sake and

mine, as wool as the puir Hieland creature Dougal, can tell ye that Nicol

Jarvie can wink as hard at a friend's failings as onybody, yet I'se tell

ye, kinswoman, mine's ne'er be the tongue to belie my thought; and sooner

than say that yonder puir wretch was lawfully slaughtered, I wad consent

to be laid beside him--though I think ye are the first Hieland woman wad

mint sic a doom to her husband's kinsman but four times removed."

It is probable that the tone and firmness assumed by the Bailie in his

last speech was better suited to make an impression on the hard heart of

his kinswoman than the tone of supplication he had hitherto assumed, as

gems can be cut with steel, though they resist softer metals. She

commanded us both to be placed before her. "Your name," she said to me,

"is Osbaldistone?--the dead dog, whose death you have witnessed, called

you so."

"My name _is_ Osbaldistone," was my answer.

"Rashleigh, then, I suppose, is your Christian name?" she pursued.

"No,--my name is Francis."

"But you know Rashleigh Osbaldistone," she continued. "He is your

brother, if I mistake not,--at least your kinsman and near friend."

"He is my kinsman," I replied, "but not my friend. We were lately engaged

together in a rencontre, when we were separated by a person whom I

understand to be your husband. My blood is hardly yet dried on his sword,

and the wound on my side is yet green. I have little reason to

acknowledge him as a friend."

"Then," she replied, "if a stranger to his intrigues, you can go in

safety to Garschattachin and his party without fear of being detained,

and carry them a message from the wife of the MacGregor?"

I answered that I knew no reasonable cause why the militia gentlemen

should detain me; that I had no reason, on my own account, to fear being

in their hands; and that if my going on her embassy would act as a

protection to my friend and servant, who were here prisoners, "I was

ready to set out directly." I took the opportunity to say, "That I had

come into this country on her husband's invitation, and his assurance

that he would aid me in some important matters in which I was interested;

that my companion, Mr. Jarvie, had accompanied me on the same errand."

"And I wish Mr. Jarvie's boots had been fu' o' boiling water when he drew

them on for sic a purpose," interrupted the Bailie.

"You may read your father," said Helen MacGregor, turning to her sons,

"in what this young Saxon tells us--Wise only when the bonnet is on his

head, and the sword is in his hand, he never exchanges the tartan for the

broad-cloth, but he runs himself into the miserable intrigues of the

Lowlanders, and becomes again, after all he has suffered, their

agent--their tool--their slave."

"Add, madam," said I, "and their benefactor."

"Be it so," she said; "for it is the most empty title of them all, since

he has uniformly sown benefits to reap a harvest of the most foul

ingratitude.--But enough of this. I shall cause you to be guided to the

enemy's outposts. Ask for their commander, and deliver him this message

from me, Helen MacGregor;--that if they injure a hair of MacGregor's

head, and if they do not set him at liberty within the space of twelve

hours, there is not a lady in the Lennox but shall before Christmas cry

the coronach for them she will be loath to lose,--there is not a farmer

but shall sing well-a-wa over a burnt barnyard and an empty byre,--there

is not a laird nor heritor shall lay his head on the pillow at night with

the assurance of being a live man in the morning,--and, to begin as we

are to end, so soon as the term is expired, I will send them this Glasgow

Bailie, and this Saxon Captain, and all the rest of my prisoners, each

bundled in a plaid, and chopped into as many pieces as there are checks

in the tartan."

As she paused in her denunciation, Captain Thornton, who was within

hearing, added, with great coolness, "Present my compliments--Captain

Thornton's of the Royals, compliments--to the commanding officer, and

tell him to do his duty and secure his prisoner, and not waste a thought

upon me. If I have been fool enough to have been led into an ambuscade by

these artful savages, I am wise enough to know how to die for it without

disgracing the service. I am only sorry for my poor fellows," he said,

"that have fallen into such butcherly hands."

"Whist! whist!" exclaimed the Bailie; "are ye weary o' your life?--Ye'll

gie _my_ service to the commanding officer, Mr. Osbaldistone--Bailie

Nicol Jarvie's service, a magistrate o' Glasgow, as his father the deacon

was before him--and tell him, here are a wheen honest men in great

trouble, and like to come to mair; and the best thing he can do for the

common good, will be just to let Rob come his wa's up the glen, and nae

mair about it. There's been some ill dune here already; but as it has

lighted chiefly on the gauger, it winna be muckle worth making a stir

about."

With these very opposite injunctions from the parties chiefly interested

in the success of my embassy, and with the reiterated charge of the wife

of MacGregor to remember and detail every word of her injunctions, I was

at length suffered to depart; and Andrew Fairservice, chiefly, I believe,

to get rid of his clamorous supplications, was permitted to attend me.

Doubtful, however, that I might use my horse as a means of escape from my

guides, or desirous to retain a prize of some value, I was given to

understand that I was to perform my journey on foot, escorted by Hamish

MacGregor, the elder brother, who, with two followers, attended, as well

to show me the way, as to reconnoitre the strength and position of the

enemy. Dougal had been at first ordered on this party, but he contrived

to elude the service, with the purpose, as we afterwards understood, of

watching over Mr. Jarvie, whom, according to his wild principles of

fidelity, he considered as entitled to his good offices, from having once

acted in some measure as his patron or master.

After walking with great rapidity about an hour, we arrived at an

eminence covered with brushwood, which gave us a commanding prospect down

the valley, and a full view of the post which the militia occupied. Being

chiefly cavalry, they had judiciously avoided any attempt to penetrate

the pass which had been so unsuccessfully essayed by Captain Thornton.

They had taken up their situation with some military skill, on a rising

ground in the centre of the little valley of Aberfoil, through which the

river Forth winds its earliest course, and which is formed by two ridges

of hills, faced with barricades of limestone rock, intermixed with huge

masses of breecia, or pebbles imbedded in some softer substance which has

hardened around them like mortar; and surrounded by the more lofty

mountains in the distance. These ridges, however, left the valley of

breadth enough to secure the cavalry from any sudden surprise by the

mountaineers and they had stationed sentinels and outposts at proper

distances from this main body, in every direction, so that they might

secure full time to mount and get under arms upon the least alarm. It was

not, indeed, expected at that time, that Highlanders would attack cavalry

in an open plain, though late events have shown that they may do so with

success.*

* The affairs of Prestonpans and Falkirk are probably alluded to, which *

marks the time of writing the Memoirs as subsequent to 1745.

When I first knew the Highlanders, they had almost a superstitious dread

of a mounted trooper, the horse being so much more fierce and imposing in

his appearance than the little shelties of their own hills, and moreover

being trained, as the more ignorant mountaineers believed, to fight with

his feet and his teeth. The appearance of the piequeted horses, feeding

in this little vale--the forms of the soldiers, as they sate, stood, or

walked, in various groups in the vicinity of the beautiful river, and of

the bare yet romantic ranges of rock which hedge in the landscape on

either side,--formed a noble foreground; while far to the eastward the

eye caught a glance of the lake of Menteith; and Stirling Castle, dimly

seen along with the blue and distant line of the Ochil Mountains, closed

the scene.

After gazing on this landscape with great earnestness, young MacGregor

intimated to me that I was to descend to the station of the militia and

execute my errand to their commander,--enjoining me at the same time,

with a menacing gesture, neither to inform them who had guided me to that

place, nor where I had parted from my escort. Thus tutored, I descended

towards the military post, followed by Andrew, who, only retaining his

breeches and stockings of the English costume, without a hat,

bare-legged, with brogues on his feet, which Dougal had given him out of

compassion, and having a tattered plaid to supply the want of all upper

garments, looked as if he had been playing the part of a Highland

Tom-of-Bedlam. We had not proceeded far before we became visible to one

of the videttes, who, riding towards us, presented his carabine and

commanded me to stand. I obeyed, and when the soldier came up, desired to

be conducted to his commanding-officer. I was immediately brought where a

circle of officers, sitting upon the grass, seemed in attendance upon one

of superior rank. He wore a cuirass of polished steel, over which were

drawn the insignia of the ancient Order of the Thistle. My friend

Garschattachin, and many other gentlemen, some in uniform, others in

their ordinary dress, but all armed and well attended, seemed to receive

their orders from this person of distinction. Many servants in rich

liveries, apparently a part of his household, were also in waiting.

Having paid to this nobleman the respect which his rank appeared to

demand, I acquainted him that I had been an involuntary witness to the

king's soldiers having suffered a defeat from the Highlanders at the pass

of Loch-Ard (such I had learned was the name of the place where Mr.

Thornton was made prisoner), and that the victors threatened every

species of extremity to those who had fallen into their power, as well as

to the Low Country in general, unless their Chief, who had that morning

been made prisoner, were returned to them uninjured. The Duke (for he

whom I addressed was of no lower rank) listened to me with great

composure, and then replied, that he should be extremely sorry to expose

the unfortunate gentlemen who had been made prisoners to the cruelty of

the barbarians into whose hands they had fallen, but that it was folly to

suppose that he would deliver up the very author of all these disorders

and offences, and so encourage his followers in their license. "You may

return to those who sent you," he proceeded, "and inform them, that I

shall certainly cause Rob Roy Campbell, whom they call MacGregor, to be

executed, by break of day, as an outlaw taken in arms, and deserving

death by a thousand acts of violence; that I should be most justly held

unworthy of my situation and commission did I act otherwise; that I shall

know how to protect the country against their insolent threats of

violence; and that if they injure a hair of the head of any of the

unfortunate gentlemen whom an unlucky accident has thrown into their

power, I will take such ample vengeance, that the very stones of their

glens shall sing woe for it this hundred years to come!"

I humbly begged leave to remonstrate respecting the honourable mission

imposed on me, and touched upon the obvious danger attending it, when the

noble commander replied, "that such being the case, I might send my

servant."

"The deil be in my feet," said Andrew, without either having respect to

the presence in which he stood, or waiting till I replied--"the deil be

in my feet, if I gang my tae's length. Do the folk think I hae another

thrapple in my pouch after John Highlandman's sneeked this ane wi' his

joctaleg? or that I can dive doun at the tae side of a Highland loch and

rise at the tother, like a shell-drake? Na, na--ilk ane for himsell, and

God for us a'. Folk may just make a page o' their ain age, and serve

themsells till their bairns grow up, and gang their ain errands for

Andrew. Rob Roy never came near the parish of Dreepdaily, to steal either

pippin or pear frae me or mine."

Silencing my follower with some difficulty, I represented to the Duke the

great danger Captain Thornton and Mr. Jarvie would certainly be exposed

to, and entreated he would make me the bearer of such modified terms as

might be the means of saving their lives. I assured him I should decline

no danger if I could be of service; but from what I had heard and seen, I

had little doubt they would be instantly murdered should the chief of the

outlaws suffer death.

The Duke was obviously much affected. "It was a hard case," he said, "and

he felt it as such; but he had a paramount duty to perform to the

country--Rob Roy must die!"

I own it was not without emotion that I heard this threat of instant

death to my acquaintance Campbell, who had so often testified his

good-will towards me. Nor was I singular in the feeling, for many of

those around the Duke ventured to express themselves in his favour. "It

would be more advisable," they said, "to send him to Stirling Castle, and

there detain him a close prisoner, as a pledge for the submission and

dispersion of his gang. It were a great pity to expose the country to be

plundered, which, now that the long nights approached, it would be found

very difficult to prevent, since it was impossible to guard every point,

and the Highlanders were sure to select those that were left exposed."

They added, that there was great hardship in leaving the unfortunate

prisoners to the almost certain doom of massacre denounced against them,

which no one doubted would be executed in the first burst of revenge.

Garschattachin ventured yet farther, confiding in the honour of the

nobleman whom he addressed, although he knew he had particular reasons

for disliking their prisoner. "Rob Roy," he said, "though a kittle

neighbour to the Low Country, and particularly obnoxious to his Grace,

and though he maybe carried the catheran trade farther than ony man o'

his day, was an auld-farrand carle, and there might be some means of

making him hear reason; whereas his wife and sons were reckless fiends,

without either fear or mercy about them, and, at the head of a' his

limmer loons, would be a worse plague to the country than ever he had

been."

"Pooh! pooh!" replied his Grace, "it is the very sense and cunning of

this fellow which has so long maintained his reign--a mere Highland

robber would have been put down in as many weeks as he has flourished

years. His gang, without him, is no more to be dreaded as a permanent

annoyance--it will no longer exist--than a wasp without its head, which

may sting once perhaps, but is instantly crushed into annihilation."

Garschattachin was not so easily silenced. "I am sure, my Lord Duke," he

replied, "I have no favour for Rob, and he as little for me, seeing he

has twice cleaned out my ain byres, beside skaith amang my tenants; but,

however"--

"But, however, Garschattachin," said the Duke, with a smile of peculiar

expression, "I fancy you think such a freedom may be pardoned in a

friend's friend, and Rob's supposed to be no enemy to Major Galbraith's

friends over the water."

"If it be so, my lord," said Garschattachin, in the same tone of

jocularity, "it's no the warst thing I have heard of him. But I wish we

heard some news from the clans, that we have waited for sae lang. I vow

to God they'll keep a Hielandman's word wi' us--I never ken'd them

better--it's ill drawing boots upon trews."

"I cannot believe it," said the Duke. "These gentlemen are known to be

men of honour, and I must necessarily suppose they are to keep their

appointment. Send out two more horse-men to look for our friends. We

cannot, till their arrival, pretend to attack the pass where Captain

Thornton has suffered himself to be surprised, and which, to my

knowledge, ten men on foot might make good against a regiment of the best

horse in Europe--Meanwhile let refreshments be given to the men."

I had the benefit of this last order, the more necessary and acceptable,

as I had tasted nothing since our hasty meal at Aberfoil the evening

before. The videttes who had been despatched returned without tidings of

the expected auxiliaries, and sunset was approaching, when a Highlander

belonging to the clans whose co-operation was expected, appeared as the

bearer of a letter, which he delivered to the Duke with a most profound

conge'.

"Now will I wad a hogshead of claret," said Garschattachin, "that this is

a message to tell us that these cursed Highlandmen, whom we have fetched

here at the expense of so much plague and vexation, are going to draw

off, and leave us to do our own business if we can."

"It is even so, gentlemen," said the Duke, reddening with indignation,

after having perused the letter, which was written upon a very dirty

scrap of paper, but most punctiliously addressed, "For the much-honoured

hands of Ane High and Mighty Prince, the Duke," &c. &c. &c. "Our allies,"

continued the Duke, "have deserted us, gentlemen, and have made a

separate peace with the enemy."

"It's just the fate of all alliances," said Garschattachin, "the Dutch

were gaun to serve us the same gate, if we had not got the start of them

at Utrecht."

"You are facetious, air," said the Duke, with a frown which showed how

little he liked the pleasantry; "but our business is rather of a grave

cut just now.--I suppose no gentleman would advise our attempting to

penetrate farther into the country, unsupported either by friendly

Highlanders, or by infantry from Inversnaid?"

A general answer announced that the attempt would be perfect madness.

"Nor would there be great wisdom," the Duke added, "in remaining exposed

to a night-attack in this place. I therefore propose that we should

retreat to the house of Duchray and that of Gartartan, and keep safe and

sure watch and ward until morning. But before we separate, I will examine

Rob Roy before you all, and make you sensible, by your own eyes and ears,

of the extreme unfitness of leaving him space for farther outrage." He

gave orders accordingly, and the prisoner was brought before him, his

arms belted down above the elbow, and secured to his body by a

horse-girth buckled tight behind him. Two non-commissioned officers had

hold of him, one on each side, and two file of men with carabines and

fixed bayonets attended for additional security.

I had never seen this man in the dress of his country, which set in a

striking point of view the peculiarities of his form. A shock-head of red

hair, which the hat and periwig of the Lowland costume had in a great

measure concealed, was seen beneath the Highland bonnet, and verified the

epithet of _Roy,_ or Red, by which he was much better known in the Low

Country than by any other, and is still, I suppose, best remembered. The

justice of the appellation was also vindicated by the appearance of that

part of his limbs, from the bottom of his kilt to the top of his short

hose, which the fashion of his country dress left bare, and which was

covered with a fell of thick, short, red hair, especially around his

knees, which resembled in this respect, as well as from their sinewy

appearance of extreme strength, the limbs of a red-coloured Highland

bull. Upon the whole, betwixt the effect produced by the change of dress,

and by my having become acquainted with his real and formidable

character, his appearance had acquired to my eyes something so much

wilder and more striking than it before presented, that I could scarce

recognise him to be the same person.

His manner was bold, unconstrained unless by the actual bonds, haughty,

and even dignified. He bowed to the Duke, nodded to Garschattachin and

others, and showed some surprise at seeing me among the party.

"It is long since we have met, Mr. Campbell," said the Duke.

"It is so, my Lord Duke; I could have wished it had been" (looking at the

fastening on his arms) "when I could have better paid the compliments I

owe to your Grace;--but there's a gude time coming."

"No time like the time present, Mr. Campbell," answered the Duke, "for

the hours are fast flying that must settle your last account with all

mortal affairs. I do not say this to insult your distress; but you must

be aware yourself that you draw near the end of your career. I do not

deny that you may sometimes have done less harm than others of your

unhappy trade, and that you may occasionally have exhibited marks of

talent, and even of a disposition which promised better things. But you

are aware how long you have been the terror and the oppressor of a

peaceful neighbourhood, and by what acts of violence you have maintained

and extended your usurped authority. You know, in short, that you have

deserved death, and that you must prepare for it."

"My Lord," said Rob Roy, "although I may well lay my misfortunes at your

Grace's door, yet I will never say that you yourself have been the wilful

and witting author of them. My Lord, if I had thought sae, your Grace

would not this day have been sitting in judgment on me; for you have been

three times within good rifle distance of me when you were thinking but

of the red deer, and few people have ken'd me miss my aim. But as for

them that have abused your Grace's ear, and set you up against a man that

was ance as peacefu' a man as ony in the land, and made your name the

warrant for driving me to utter extremity,--I have had some amends of

them, and, for a' that your Grace now says, I expect to live to hae

mair."

"I know," said the Duke, in rising anger, "that you are a determined and

impudent villain, who will keep his oath if he swears to mischief; but it

shall be my care to prevent you. You have no enemies but your own wicked

actions."

"Had I called myself Grahame, instead of Campbell, I might have heard

less about them," answered Rob Roy, with dogged resolution.

"You will do well, sir," said the Duke, "to warn your wife and family and

followers, to beware how they use the gentlemen now in their hands, as I

will requite tenfold on them, and their kin and allies, the slightest

injury done to any of his Majesty's liege subjects."

"My Lord," said Roy in answer, "none of my enemies will allege that I

have been a bloodthirsty man, and were I now wi' my folk, I could rule

four or five hundred wild Hielanders as easy as your Grace those eight or

ten lackeys and foot-boys--But if your Grace is bent to take the head

away from a house, ye may lay your account there will be misrule amang

the members.--However, come o't what like, there's an honest man, a

kinsman o' my ain, maun come by nae skaith. Is there ony body here wad do

a gude deed for MacGregor?--he may repay it, though his hands be now

tied."

The Highlander who had delivered the letter to the Duke replied, "I'll do

your will for you, MacGregor; and I'll gang back up the glen on purpose."

He advanced, and received from the prisoner a message to his wife, which,

being in Gaelic, I did not understand, but I had little doubt it related

to some measures to be taken for the safety of Mr. Jarvie.

"Do you hear the fellow's impudence?" said the Duke; "he confides in his

character of a messenger. His conduct is of a piece with his master's,

who invited us to make common cause against these freebooters, and have

deserted us so soon as the MacGregors have agreed to surrender the

Balquhidder lands they were squabbling about.

No truth in plaids, no faith in tartan trews!

Chameleon-like, they change a thousand hues."

"Your great ancestor never said so, my Lord," answered Major

Galbraith;--"and, with submission, neither would your Grace have

occasion to say it, wad ye but be for beginning justice at the

well-head--Gie the honest man his mear again--Let every head wear it's

ane bannet, and the distractions o' the Lennox wad be mended wi' them

o'the land."

"Hush! hush! Garschattachin," said the Duke; "this is language dangerous

for you to talk to any one, and especially to me; but I presume you

reckon yourself a privileged person. Please to draw off your party

towards Gartartan; I shall myself see the prisoner escorted to Duchray,

and send you orders tomorrow. You will please grant no leave of absence

to any of your troopers."

"Here's auld ordering and counter-ordering," muttered Garschattachin

between his teeth. "But patience! patience!--we may ae day play at change

seats, the king's coming."

The two troops of cavalry now formed, and prepared to march off the

ground, that they might avail themselves of the remainder of daylight to

get to their evening quarters. I received an intimation, rather than an

invitation, to attend the party; and I perceived, that, though no longer

considered as a prisoner, I was yet under some sort of suspicion. The

times were indeed so dangerous,--the great party questions of Jacobite

and Hanoverian divided the country so effectually,--and the constant

disputes and jealousies between the Highlanders and Lowlanders, besides a

number of inexplicable causes of feud which separated the great leading

families in Scotland from each other, occasioned such general suspicion,

that a solitary and unprotected stranger was almost sure to meet with

something disagreeable in the course of his travels.

I acquiesced, however, in my destination with the best grace I could,

consoling myself with the hope that I might obtain from the captive

freebooter some information concerning Rashleigh and his machinations. I

should do myself injustice did I not add, that my views were not merely

selfish. I was too much interested in my singular acquaintance not to be

desirous of rendering him such services as his unfortunate situation

might demand, or admit of his receiving.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

And when he came to broken brigg,

He bent his bow and swam;

And when he came to grass growing,

Set down his feet and ran.

Gil Morrice.

The echoes of the rocks and ravines, on either side, now rang to the

trumpets of the cavalry, which, forming themselves into two distinct

bodies, began to move down the valley at a slow trot. That commanded by

Major Galbraith soon took to the right hand, and crossed the Forth, for

the purpose of taking up the quarters assigned them for the night, when

they were to occupy, as I understood, an old castle in the vicinity. They

formed a lively object while crossing the stream, but were soon lost in

winding up the bank on the opposite side, which was clothed with wood.

We continued our march with considerable good order. To ensure the safe

custody of the prisoner, the Duke had caused him to be placed on

horseback behind one of his retainers, called, as I was informed, Ewan of

Brigglands, one of the largest and strongest men who were present. A

horse-belt, passed round the bodies of both, and buckled before the

yeoman's breast, rendered it impossible for Rob Roy to free himself from

his keeper. I was directed to keep close beside them, and accommodated

for the purpose with a troop-horse. We were as closely surrounded by the

soldiers as the width of the road would permit, and had always at least

one, if not two, on each side, with pistol in hand. Andrew Fairservice,

furnished with a Highland pony, of which they had made prey somewhere or

other, was permitted to ride among the other domestics, of whom a great

number attended the line of march, though without falling into the ranks

of the more regularly trained troopers.

In this manner we travelled for a certain distance, until we arrived at a

place where we also were to cross the river. The Forth, as being the

outlet of a lake, is of considerable depth, even where less important in

point of width, and the descent to the ford was by a broken precipitous

ravine, which only permitted one horseman to descend at once. The rear

and centre of our small body halting on the bank while the front files

passed down in succession, produced a considerable delay, as is usual on

such occasions, and even some confusion; for a number of those riders,

who made no proper part of the squadron, crowded to the ford without

regularity, and made the militia cavalry, although tolerably well

drilled, partake in some degree of their own disorder.

[Illustration: Escape of Rob Roy at the Ford--232]

It was while we were thus huddled together on the bank that I heard Rob

Roy whisper to the man behind whom he was placed on horseback, "Your

father, Ewan, wadna hae carried an auld friend to the shambles, like a

calf, for a' the Dukes in Christendom."

Ewan returned no answer, but shrugged, as one who would express by that

sign that what he was doing was none of his own choice.

"And when the MacGregors come down the glen, and ye see toom faulds, a

bluidy hearthstone, and the fire flashing out between the rafters o' your

house, ye may be thinking then, Ewan, that were your friend Rob to the

fore, you would have had that safe which it will make your heart sair to

lose."

Ewan of Brigglands again shrugged and groaned, but remained silent.

"It's a sair thing," continued Rob, sliding his insinuations so gently

into Ewan's ear that they reached no other but mine, who certainly saw

myself in no shape called upon to destroy his prospects of escape--"It's

a sair thing, that Ewan of Brigglands, whom Roy MacGregor has helped with

hand, sword, and purse, suld mind a gloom from a great man mair than a

friend's life."

Ewan seemed sorely agitated, but was silent.--We heard the Duke's voice

from the opposite bank call, "Bring over the prisoner."

Ewan put his horse in motion, and just as I heard Roy say, "Never weigh a

MacGregor's bluid against a broken whang o' leather, for there will be

another accounting to gie for it baith here and hereafter," they passed

me hastily, and dashing forward rather precipitately, entered the water.

"Not yet, sir--not yet," said some of the troopers to me, as I was about

to follow, while others pressed forward into the stream.

I saw the Duke on the other side, by the waning light, engaged in

commanding his people to get into order, as they landed dispersedly, some

higher, some lower. Many had crossed, some were in the water, and the

rest were preparing to follow, when a sudden splash warned me that

MacGregor's eloquence had prevailed on Ewan to give him freedom and a

chance for life. The Duke also heard the sound, and instantly guessed its

meaning. "Dog!" he exclaimed to Ewan as he landed, "where is your

prisoner?" and, without waiting to hear the apology which the terrified

vassal began to falter forth, he fired a pistol at his head, whether

fatally I know not, and exclaimed, "Gentlemen, disperse and pursue the

villain--An hundred guineas for him that secures Rob Roy!"

All became an instant scene of the most lively confusion. Rob Roy,

disengaged from his bonds, doubtless by Ewan's slipping the buckle of his

belt, had dropped off at the horse's tail, and instantly dived, passing

under the belly of the troop-horse which was on his left hand. But as he

was obliged to come to the surface an instant for air, the glimpse of his

tartan plaid drew the attention of the troopers, some of whom plunged

into the river, with a total disregard to their own safety, rushing,

according to the expression of their country, through pool and stream,

sometimes swimming their horses, sometimes losing them and struggling for

their own lives. Others, less zealous or more prudent, broke off in

different directions, and galloped up and down the banks, to watch the

places at which the fugitive might possibly land. The hollowing, the

whooping, the calls for aid at different points, where they saw, or

conceived they saw, some vestige of him they were seeking,--the frequent

report of pistols and carabines, fired at every object which excited the

least suspicion,--the sight of so many horsemen riding about, in and out

of the river, and striking with their long broadswords at whatever

excited their attention, joined to the vain exertions used by their

officers to restore order and regularity,--and all this in so wild a

scene, and visible only by the imperfect twilight of an autumn evening,

made the most extraordinary hubbub I had hitherto witnessed. I was indeed

left alone to observe it, for our whole cavalcade had dispersed in

pursuit, or at least to see the event of the search. Indeed, as I partly

suspected at the time, and afterwards learned with certainty, many of

those who seemed most active in their attempts to waylay and recover the

fugitive, were, in actual truth, least desirous that he should be taken,

and only joined in the cry to increase the general confusion, and to give

Rob Roy a better opportunity of escaping.

Escape, indeed, was not difficult for a swimmer so expert as the

freebooter, as soon as he had eluded the first burst of pursuit. At one

time he was closely pressed, and several blows were made which flashed in

the water around him; the scene much resembling one of the otter-hunts

which I had seen at Osbaldistone Hall, where the animal is detected by

the hounds from his being necessitated to put his nose above the stream

to vent or breathe, while he is enabled to elude them by getting under

water again so soon as he has refreshed himself by respiration.

MacGregor, however, had a trick beyond the otter; for he contrived, when

very closely pursued, to disengage himself unobserved from his plaid, and

suffer it to float down the stream, where in its progress it quickly

attracted general attention; many of the horsemen were thus put upon a

false scent, and several shots or stabs were averted from the party for

whom they were designed.

Once fairly out of view, the recovery of the prisoner became almost

impossible, since, in so many places, the river was rendered inaccessible

by the steepness of its banks, or the thickets of alders, poplars, and

birch, which, overhanging its banks, prevented the approach of horsemen.

Errors and accidents had also happened among the pursuers, whose task the

approaching night rendered every moment more hopeless. Some got

themselves involved in the eddies of the stream, and required the

assistance of their companions to save them from drowning. Others, hurt

by shots or blows in the confused mele'e, implored help or threatened

vengeance, and in one or two instances such accidents led to actual

strife. The trumpets, therefore, sounded the retreat, announcing that the

commanding officer, with whatsoever unwillingness, had for the present

relinquished hopes of the important prize which had thus unexpectedly

escaped his grasp, and the troopers began slowly, reluctantly, and

brawling with each other as they returned, again to assume their ranks. I

could see them darkening, as they formed on the southern bank of the

river,--whose murmurs, long drowned by the louder cries of vengeful

pursuit, were now heard hoarsely mingling with the deep, discontented,

and reproachful voices of the disappointed horsemen.

Hitherto I had been as it were a mere spectator, though far from an

uninterested one, of the singular scene which had passed. But now I heard

a voice suddenly exclaim, "Where is the English stranger?--It was he gave

Rob Roy the knife to cut the belt."

"Cleeve the pock-pudding to the chafts!" cried one voice.

"Weize a brace of balls through his harn-pan!" said a second.

"Drive three inches of cauld airn into his brisket!" shouted a third.

And I heard several horses galloping to and fro, with the kind purpose,

doubtless, of executing these denunciations. I was immediately awakened

to the sense of my situation, and to the certainty that armed men, having

no restraint whatever on their irritated and inflamed passions, would

probably begin by shooting or cutting me down, and afterwards investigate

the justice of the action. Impressed by this belief, I leaped from my

horse, and turning him loose, plunged into a bush of alder-trees, where,

considering the advancing obscurity of the night, I thought there was

little chance of my being discovered. Had I been near enough to the Duke

to have invoked his personal protection, I would have done so; but he had

already commenced his retreat, and I saw no officer on the left bank of

the river, of authority sufficient to have afforded protection, in case

of my surrendering myself. I thought there was no point of honour which

could require, in such circumstances, an unnecessary exposure of my life.

My first idea, when the tumult began to be appeased, and the clatter of

the horses' feet was heard less frequently in the immediate vicinity of

my hiding-place, was to seek out the Duke's quarters when all should be

quiet, and give myself up to him, as a liege subject, who had nothing to

fear from his justice, and a stranger, who had every right to expect

protection and hospitality. With this purpose I crept out of my

hiding-place, and looked around me.

The twilight had now melted nearly into darkness; a few or none of the

troopers were left on my side of the Forth, and of those who were already

across it, I only heard the distant trample of the horses' feet, and the

wailing and prolonged sound of their trumpets, which rung through the

woods to recall stragglers, Here, therefore, I was left in a situation of

considerable difficulty. I had no horse, and the deep and wheeling stream

of the river, rendered turbid by the late tumult of which its channel had

been the scene, and seeming yet more so under the doubtful influence of

an imperfect moonlight, had no inviting influence for a pedestrian by no

means accustomed to wade rivers, and who had lately seen horsemen

weltering, in this dangerous passage, up to the very saddle-laps. At the

same time, my prospect, if I remained on the side of the river on which I

then stood, could be no other than of concluding the various fatigues of

this day and the preceding night, by passing that which was now closing

in, _al fresco_ on the side of a Highland hill.

After a moment's reflection, I began to consider that Fairservice, who

had doubtless crossed the river with the other domestics, according to

his forward and impertinent custom of putting himself always among the

foremost, could not fail to satisfy the Duke, or the competent

authorities, respecting my rank and situation; and that, therefore, my

character did not require my immediate appearance, at the risk of being

drowned in the river--of being unable to trace the march of the squadron

in case of my reaching the other side in safety--or, finally, of being

cut down, right or wrong, by some straggler, who might think such a piece

of good service a convenient excuse for not sooner rejoining his ranks. I

therefore resolved to measure my steps back to the little inn, where I

had passed the preceding night. I had nothing to apprehend from Rob Roy.

He was now at liberty, and I was certain, in case of my falling in with

any of his people, the news of his escape would ensure me protection. I

might thus also show, that I had no intention to desert Mr. Jarvie in the

delicate situation in which he had engaged himself chiefly on my account.

And lastly, it was only in this quarter that I could hope to learn

tidings concerning Rashleigh and my father's papers, which had been the

original cause of an expedition so fraught with perilous adventure. I

therefore abandoned all thoughts of crossing the Forth that evening; and,

turning my back on the Fords of Frew, began to retrace my steps towards

the little village of Aberfoil.

A sharp frost-wind, which made itself heard and felt from time to time,

removed the clouds of mist which might otherwise have slumbered till

morning on the valley; and, though it could not totally disperse the

clouds of vapour, yet threw them in confused and changeful masses, now

hovering round the heads of the mountains, now filling, as with a dense

and voluminous stream of smoke, the various deep gullies where masses of

the composite rock, or breccia, tumbling in fragments from the cliffs,

have rushed to the valley, leaving each behind its course a rent and torn

ravine resembling a deserted water-course. The moon, which was now high,

and twinkled with all the vivacity of a frosty atmosphere, silvered the

windings of the river and the peaks and precipices which the mist left

visible, while her beams seemed as it were absorbed by the fleecy

whiteness of the mist, where it lay thick and condensed; and gave to the

more light and vapoury specks, which were elsewhere visible, a sort of

filmy transparency resembling the lightest veil of silver gauze. Despite

the uncertainty of my situation, a view so romantic, joined to the active

and inspiring influence of the frosty atmosphere, elevated my spirits

while it braced my nerves. I felt an inclination to cast care away, and

bid defiance to danger, and involuntarily whistled, by way of cadence to

my steps, which my feeling of the cold led me to accelerate, and I felt

the pulse of existence beat prouder and higher in proportion as I felt

confidence in my own strength, courage, and resources. I was so much lost

in these thoughts, and in the feelings which they excited, that two

horsemen came up behind me without my hearing their approach, until one

was on each side of me, when the left-hand rider, pulling up his horse,

addressed me in the English tongue--"So ho, friend! whither so late?"

"To my supper and bed at Aberfoil," I replied.

"Are the passes open?" he inquired, with the same commanding tone of

voice.

"I do not know," I replied; "I shall learn when I get there. But," I

added, the fate of Morris recurring to my recollection, "if you are an

English stranger, I advise you to turn back till daylight; there has been

some disturbance in this neighbourhood, and I should hesitate to say it

is perfectly safe for strangers."

"The soldiers had the worst?--had they not?" was the reply.

"They had indeed; and an officer's party were destroyed or made

prisoners."

"Are you sure of that?" replied the horseman.

"As sure as that I hear you speak," I replied. "I was an unwilling

spectator of the skirmish."

"Unwilling!" continued the interrogator. "Were you not engaged in it

then?"

"Certainly no," I replied; "I was detained by the king's officer."

"On what suspicion? and who are you? or what is your name?" he continued.

"I really do not know, sir," said I, "why I should answer so many

questions to an unknown stranger. I have told you enough to convince you

that you are going into a dangerous and distracted country. If you choose

to proceed, it is your own affair; but as I ask you no questions

respecting your name and business, you will oblige me by making no

inquiries after mine."

"Mr. Francis Osbaldistone," said the other rider, in a voice the tones of

which thrilled through every nerve of my body, "should not whistle his

favourite airs when he wishes to remain undiscovered."

And Diana Vernon--for she, wrapped in a horseman's cloak, was the last

speaker--whistled in playful mimicry the second part of the tune which

was on my lips when they came up.

"Good God!" I exclaimed, like one thunderstruck, "can it be you, Miss

Vernon, on such a spot--at such an hour--in such a lawless country--in

such"--

"In such a masculine dress, you would say.--But what would you have? The

philosophy of the excellent Corporal Nym is the best after all; things

must be as they may--_pauca verba._"

While she was thus speaking, I eagerly took advantage of an unusually

bright gleam of moonshine, to study the appearance of her companion; for

it may be easily supposed, that finding Miss Vernon in a place so

solitary, engaged in a journey so dangerous, and under the protection of

one gentleman only, were circumstances to excite every feeling of

jealousy, as well as surprise. The rider did not speak with the deep

melody of Rashleigh's voice; his tones were more high and commanding; he

was taller, moreover, as he sate on horseback, than that first-rate

object of my hate and suspicion. Neither did the stranger's address

resemble that of any of my other cousins; it had that indescribable tone

and manner by which we recognise a man of sense and breeding, even in the

first few sentences he speaks.

The object of my anxiety seemed desirous to get rid of my investigation.

"Diana," he said, in a tone of mingled kindness and authority, "give your

cousin his property, and let us not spend time here."

Miss Vernon had in the meantime taken out a small case, and leaning down

from her horse towards me, she said, in a tone in which an effort at her

usual quaint lightness of expression contended with a deeper and more

grave tone of sentiment, "You see, my dear coz, I was born to be your

better angel. Rashleigh has been compelled to yield up his spoil, and had

we reached this same village of Aberfoil last night, as we purposed, I

should have found some Highland sylph to have wafted to you all these

representatives of commercial wealth. But there were giants and dragons

in the way; and errant-knights and damsels of modern times, bold though

they be, must not, as of yore, run into useless danger--Do not you do so

either, my dear coz."

"Diana," said her companion, "let me once more warn you that the evening

waxes late, and we are still distant from our home."

"I am coming, sir, I am coming--Consider," she added, with a sigh, "how

lately I have been subjected to control--besides, I have not yet given my

cousin the packet, and bid him fare-well--for ever. Yes, Frank," she

said, "for ever!--there is a gulf between us--a gulf of absolute

perdition;--where we go, you must not follow--what we do, you must not

share in--Farewell--be happy!"

[Illustration: Parting of Die and Frank on the Moor --242]

In the attitude in which she bent from her horse, which was a Highland

pony, her face, not perhaps altogether unwillingly, touched mine. She

pressed my hand, while the tear that trembled in her eye found its

way to my cheek instead of her own. It was a moment never to be

forgotten--inexpressibly bitter, yet mixed with a sensation of pleasure

so deeply soothing and affecting, as at once to unlock all the

flood-gates of the heart. It was _but_ a moment, however; for, instantly

recovering from the feeling to which she had involuntarily given way,

she intimated to her companion she was ready to attend him, and putting

their horses to a brisk pace, they were soon far distant from the place

where I stood.

Heaven knows, it was not apathy which loaded my frame and my tongue so

much, that I could neither return Miss Vernon's half embrace, nor even

answer her farewell. The word, though it rose to my tongue, seemed to

choke in my throat like the fatal _guilty,_ which the delinquent who

makes it his plea, knows must be followed by the doom of death. The

surprise--the sorrow, almost stupified me. I remained motionless with the

packet in my hand, gazing after them, as if endeavouring to count the

sparkles which flew from the horses' hoofs. I continued to look after

even these had ceased to be visible, and to listen for their footsteps

long after the last distant trampling had died in my ears. At length,

tears rushed to my eyes, glazed as they were by the exertion of straining

after what was no longer to be seen. I wiped them mechanically, and

almost without being aware that they were flowing--but they came thicker

and thicker; I felt the tightening of the throat and breast--the

_hysterica passio_ of poor Lear; and sitting down by the wayside, I shed

a flood of the first and most bitter tears which had flowed from my eyes

since childhood.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

_Dangle._--Egad, I think the interpreter is the harder to be

understood of the two.

Critic.

I had scarce given vent to my feelings in this paroxysm, ere was ashamed

of my weakness. I remembered that I had been for some time endeavouring

to regard Diana Vernon, when her idea intruded itself on my remembrance,

as a friend, for whose welfare I should indeed always be anxious, but

with whom I could have little further communication. But the almost

unrepressed tenderness of her manner, joined to the romance of our sudden

meeting where it was so little to have been expected, were circumstances

which threw me entirely off my guard. I recovered, however, sooner than

might have been expected, and without giving myself time accurately to

examine my motives. I resumed the path on which I had been travelling

when overtaken by this strange and unexpected apparition.

"I am not," was my reflection, "transgressing her injunction so

pathetically given, since I am but pursuing my own journey by the only

open route.--If I have succeeded in recovering my father's property, it

still remains incumbent on me to see my Glasgow friend delivered from the

situation in which he has involved himself on my account; besides, what

other place of rest can I obtain for the night excepting at the little

inn of Aberfoil? They also must stop there, since it is impossible for

travellers on horseback to go farther--Well, then, we shall meet

again--meet for the last time perhaps--But I shall see and hear her--I

shall learn who this happy man is who exercises over her the authority

of a husband--I shall learn if there remains, in the difficult course in

which she seems engaged, any difficulty which my efforts may remove, or

aught that I can do to express my gratitude for her generosity--for her

disinterested friendship."

As I reasoned thus with myself, colouring with every plausible pretext

which occurred to my ingenuity my passionate desire once more to see and

converse with my cousin, I was suddenly hailed by a touch on the

shoulder; and the deep voice of a Highlander, who, walking still faster

than I, though I was proceeding at a smart pace, accosted me with, "A

braw night, Maister Osbaldistone--we have met at the mirk hour before

now."

There was no mistaking the tone of MacGregor; he had escaped the pursuit

of his enemies, and was in full retreat to his own wilds and to his

adherents. He had also contrived to arm himself, probably at the house of

some secret adherent, for he had a musket on his shoulder, and the usual

Highland weapons by his side. To have found myself alone with such a

character in such a situation, and at this late hour in the evening,

might not have been pleasant to me in any ordinary mood of mind; for,

though habituated to think of Rob Roy in rather a friendly point of view,

I will confess frankly that I never heard him speak but that it seemed to

thrill my blood. The intonation of the mountaineers gives a habitual

depth and hollowness to the sound of their words, owing to the guttural

expression so common in their native language, and they usually speak

with a good deal of emphasis. To these national peculiarities Rob Roy

added a sort of hard indifference of accent and manner, expressive of a

mind neither to be daunted, nor surprised, nor affected by what passed

before him, however dreadful, however sudden, however afflicting.

Habitual danger, with unbounded confidence in his own strength and

sagacity, had rendered him indifferent to fear, and the lawless and

precarious life he led had blunted, though its dangers and errors had not

destroyed, his feelings for others. And it was to be remembered that I

had very lately seen the followers of this man commit a cruel slaughter

on an unarmed and suppliant individual.

Yet such was the state of my mind, that I welcomed the company of the

outlaw leader as a relief to my own overstrained and painful thoughts;

and was not without hopes that through his means I might obtain some clew

of guidance through the maze in which my fate had involved me. I

therefore answered his greeting cordially, and congratulated him on his

late escape in circumstances when escape seemed impossible.

"Ay," he replied, "there is as much between the craig and the woodie* as

there is between the cup and the lip. But my peril was less than you may

think, being a stranger to this country.

* _i.e._ The throat and the withy. Twigs of willow, such as bind faggots,

were often used for halters in Scotland and Ireland, being a sage economy

of hemp.

Of those that were summoned to take me, and to keep me, and to retake me

again, there was a moiety, as cousin Nicol Jarvie calls it, that had nae

will that I suld be either taen, or keepit fast, or retaen; and of tother

moiety, there was as half was feared to stir me; and so I had only like

the fourth part of fifty or sixty men to deal withal."

"And enough, too, I should think," replied I.

"I dinna ken that," said he; "but I ken, that turn every ill-willer that

I had amang them out upon the green before the Clachan of Aberfoil, I wad

find them play with broadsword and target, one down and another come on."

He now inquired into my adventures since we entered his country, and

laughed heartily at my account of the battle we had in the inn, and at

the exploits of the Bailie with the red-hot poker.

"Let Glasgow Flourish!" he exclaimed. "The curse of Cromwell on me, if I

wad hae wished better sport than to see cousin Nicol Jarvie singe

Iverach's plaid, like a sheep's head between a pair of tongs. But my

cousin Jarvie," he added, more gravely, "has some gentleman's bluid in

his veins, although he has been unhappily bred up to a peaceful and

mechanical craft, which could not but blunt any pretty man's spirit.--Ye

may estimate the reason why I could not receive you at the Clachan of

Aberfoil as I purposed. They had made a fine hosenet for me when I was

absent twa or three days at Glasgow, upon the king's business--But I

think I broke up the league about their lugs--they'll no be able to hound

one clan against another as they hae dune. I hope soon to see the day

when a' Hielandmen will stand shouther to shouther. But what chanced

next?"

I gave him an account of the arrival of Captain Thornton and his party,

and the arrest of the Bailie and myself under pretext of our being

suspicious persons; and upon his more special inquiry, I recollected the

officer had mentioned that, besides my name sounding suspicious in his

ears, he had orders to secure an old and young person, resembling our

description. This again moved the outlaw's risibility.

"As man lives by bread," he said, "the buzzards have mistaen my friend

the Bailie for his Excellency, and you for Diana Vernon--O, the most

egregious night-howlets!"

"Miss Vernon?" said I, with hesitation, and trembling for the

answer--"Does she still bear that name? She passed but now, along with

a gentleman who seemed to use a style of authority."

"Ay, ay," answered Rob, "she's under lawfu' authority now; and full time,

for she was a daft hempie--But she's a mettle quean. It's a pity his

Excellency is a thought eldern. The like o' yourself, or my son Hamish,

wad be mair sortable in point of years."

Here, then, was a complete downfall of those castles of cards which my

fancy had, in despite of my reason, so often amused herself with

building. Although in truth I had scarcely anything else to expect, since

I could not suppose that Diana could be travelling in such a country, at

such an hour, with any but one who had a legal title to protect her, I

did not feel the blow less severely when it came; and MacGregor's voice,

urging me to pursue my story, sounded in my ears without conveying any

exact import to my mind.

"You are ill," he said at length, after he had spoken twice without

receiving an answer; "this day's wark has been ower muckle for ane

doubtless unused to sic things."

The tone of kindness in which this was spoken, recalling me to myself,

and to the necessities of my situation, I continued my narrative as well

as I could. Rob Roy expressed great exultation at the successful skirmish

in the pass.

"They say," he observed, "that king's chaff is better than other folk's

corn; but I think that canna be said o' king's soldiers, if they let

themselves be beaten wi' a wheen auld carles that are past fighting, and

bairns that are no come till't, and wives wi' their rocks and distaffs,

the very wally-draigles o' the countryside. And Dougal Gregor, too--wha

wad hae thought there had been as muckle sense in his tatty-pow, that

ne'er had a better covering than his ain shaggy hassock of hair!--But say

away--though I dread what's to come neist--for my Helen's an incarnate

devil when her bluid's up--puir thing, she has ower muckle reason."

I observed as much delicacy as I could in communicating to him the usage

we had received, but I obviously saw the detail gave him great pain.

"I wad rather than a thousand merks," he said, "that I had been at hame!

To misguide strangers, and forbye a', my ain natural cousin, that had

showed me sic kindness--I wad rather they had burned half the Lennox in

their folly! But this comes o' trusting women and their bairns, that have

neither measure nor reason in their dealings. However, it's a' owing to

that dog of a gauger, wha betrayed me by pretending a message from your

cousin Rashleigh, to meet him on the king's affairs, whilk I thought was

very like to be anent Garschattachin and a party of the Lennox declaring

themselves for King James. Faith! but I ken'd I was clean beguiled when I

heard the Duke was there; and when they strapped the horse-girth ower my

arms, I might hae judged what was biding me; for I ken'd your kinsman,

being, wi' pardon, a slippery loon himself, is prone to employ those of

his ain kidney--I wish he mayna hae been at the bottom o' the ploy

himsell--I thought the chield Morris looked devilish queer when I

determined he should remain a wad, or hostage, for my safe back-coming.

But I _am_ come back, nae thanks to him, or them that employed him; and

the question is, how the collector loon is to win back himsell--I promise

him it will not be without a ransom."

"Morris," said I, "has already paid the last ransom which mortal man can

owe."

"Eh! What?" exclaimed my companion hastily; "what d'ye say? I trust it

was in the skirmish he was killed?"

"He was slain in cold blood after the fight was over, Mr. Campbell."

"Cold blood?--Damnation!" he said, muttering betwixt his teeth--"How fell

that, sir? Speak out, sir, and do not Maister or Campbell me--my foot is

on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor!"

His passions were obviously irritated; but without noticing the rudeness

of his tone, I gave him a short and distinct account of the death of

Morris. He struck the butt of his gun with great vehemence against the

ground, and broke out--"I vow to God, such a deed might make one forswear

kin, clan, country, wife, and bairns! And yet the villain wrought long

for it. And what is the difference between warsling below the water wi' a

stane about your neck, and wavering in the wind wi' a tether round

it?--it's but choking after a', and he drees the doom he ettled for me. I

could have wished, though, they had rather putten a ball through him, or

a dirk; for the fashion of removing him will give rise to mony idle

clavers--But every wight has his weird, and we maun a' dee when our day

comes--And naebody will deny that Helen MacGregor has deep wrongs to

avenge."

So saying, he seemed to dismiss the theme altogether from his mind, and

proceeded to inquire how I got free from the party in whose hands he had

seen me.

My story was soon told; and I added the episode of my having recovered

the papers of my father, though I dared not trust my voice to name the

name of Diana.

"I was sure ye wad get them," said MacGregor;--"the letter ye brought me

contained his Excellency's pleasure to that effect and nae doubt it was

my will to have aided in it. And I asked ye up into this glen on the very

errand. But it's like his Excellency has foregathered wi' Rashleigh

sooner than I expected."

The first part of this answer was what most forcibly struck me.

"Was the letter I brought you, then, from this person you call his

Excellency? Who is he? and what is his rank and proper name?"

"I am thinking," said MacGregor, "that since ye dinna ken them already

they canna be o' muckle consequence to you, and sae I shall say naething

on that score. But weel I wot the letter was frae his ain hand, or,

having a sort of business of my ain on my hands, being, as ye weel may

see, just as much as I can fairly manage, I canna say I would hae fashed

mysell sae muckle about the matter."

I now recollected the lights seen in the library--the various

circumstances which had excited my jealousy--the glove--the agitation of

the tapestry which covered the secret passage from Rashleigh's apartment;

and, above all, I recollected that Diana retired in order to write, as I

then thought, the billet to which I was to have recourse in case of the

last necessity. Her hours, then, were not spent in solitude, but in

listening to the addresses of some desperate agent of Jacobitical

treason, who was a secret resident within the mansion of her uncle! Other

young women have sold themselves for gold, or suffered themselves to be

seduced from their first love from vanity; but Diana had sacrificed my

affections and her own to partake the fortunes of some desperate

adventurer--to seek the haunts of freebooters through midnight deserts,

with no better hopes of rank or fortune than that mimicry of both which

the mock court of the Stuarts at St. Germains had in their power to

bestow.

"I will see her," I said internally, "if it be possible, once more. I

will argue with her as a friend--as a kinsman--on the risk she is

incurring, and I will facilitate her retreat to France, where she may,

with more comfort and propriety, as well as safety, abide the issue of

the turmoils which the political trepanner, to whom she has united her

fate, is doubtless busied in putting into motion."

"I conclude, then," I said to MacGregor, after about five minutes'

silence on both sides, "that his Excellency, since you give me no other

name for him, was residing in Osbaldistone Hall at the same time with

myself?"

"To be sure--to be sure--and in the young lady's apartment, as best

reason was." This gratuitous information was adding gall to bitterness.

"But few," added MacGregor, "ken'd he was derned there, save Rashleigh

and Sir Hildebrand; for you were out o' the question; and the young lads

haena wit eneugh to ca' the cat frae the cream--But it's a bra'

auld-fashioned house, and what I specially admire is the abundance o'

holes and bores and concealments--ye could put twenty or thirty men in ae

corner, and a family might live a week without finding them out--whilk,

nae doubt, may on occasion be a special convenience. I wish we had the

like o' Osbaldistone Hall on the braes o' Craig-Royston--But we maun gar

woods and caves serve the like o' us puir Hieland bodies."

"I suppose his Excellency," said I, "was privy to the first accident

which befell"--

I could not help hesitating a moment.

"Ye were going to say Morris," said Rob Roy coolly, for he was too much

accustomed to deeds of violence for the agitation he had at first

expressed to be of long continuance. "I used to laugh heartily at that

reik; but I'll hardly hae the heart to do't again, since the ill-far'd

accident at the Loch. Na, na--his Excellency ken'd nought o' that

ploy--it was a' managed atween Rashleigh and mysell. But the sport that

came after--and Rashleigh's shift o' turning the suspicion aff himself

upon you, that he had nae grit favour to frae the beginning--and then

Miss Die, she maun hae us sweep up a' our spiders' webs again, and set

you out o' the Justice's claws--and then the frightened craven Morris,

that was scared out o' his seven senses by seeing the real man when he

was charging the innocent stranger--and the gowk of a clerk--and the

drunken carle of a justice--Ohon! ohon!--mony a laugh that job's gien

me--and now, a' that I can do for the puir devil is to get some messes

said for his soul."

"May I ask," said I, "how Miss Vernon came to have so much influence over

Rashleigh and his accomplices as to derange your projected plan?"

"Mine! it was none of mine. No man can say I ever laid my burden on other

folk's shoulders--it was a' Rashleigh's doings. But, undoubtedly, she had

great influence wi' us baith on account of his Excellency's affection, as

weel as that she ken'd far ower mony secrets to be lightlied in a matter

o' that kind.--Deil tak him," he ejaculated, by way of summing up, "that

gies women either secret to keep or power to abuse--fules shouldna hae

chapping-sticks."

We were now within a quarter of a mile from the village, when three

Highlanders, springing upon us with presented arms, commanded us to stand

and tell our business. The single word _Gregaragh,_ in the deep and

commanding voice of my companion, was answered by a shout, or rather

yell, of joyful recognition. One, throwing down his firelock, clasped his

leader so fast round the knees, that he was unable to extricate himself,

muttering, at the same time, a torrent of Gaelic gratulation, which every

now and then rose into a sort of scream of gladness. The two others,

after the first howling was over, set off literally with the speed of

deers, contending which should first carry to the village, which a strong

party of the MacGregors now occupied, the joyful news of Rob Roy's escape

and return. The intelligence excited such shouts of jubilation, that the

very hills rung again, and young and old, men, women, and children,

without distinction of sex or age, came running down the vale to meet us,

with all the tumultuous speed and clamour of a mountain torrent. When I

heard the rushing noise and yells of this joyful multitude approach us, I

thought it a fitting precaution to remind MacGregor that I was a

stranger, and under his protection. He accordingly held me fast by the

hand, while the assemblage crowded around him with such shouts of devoted

attachment, and joy at his return, as were really affecting; nor did he

extend to his followers what all eagerly sought, the grasp, namely, of

his hand, until he had made them understand that I was to be kindly and

carefully used.

The mandate of the Sultan of Delhi could not have been more promptly

obeyed. Indeed, I now sustained nearly as much inconvenience from their

well-meant attentions as formerly from their rudeness. They would hardly

allow the friend of their leader to walk upon his own legs, so earnest

were they in affording me support and assistance upon the way; and at

length, taking advantage of a slight stumble which I made over a stone,

which the press did not permit me to avoid, they fairly seized upon me,

and bore me in their arms in triumph towards Mrs. MacAlpine's.

On arrival before her hospitable wigwam, I found power and popularity had

its inconveniences in the Highlands, as everywhere else; for, before

MacGregor could be permitted to enter the house where he was to obtain

rest and refreshment, he was obliged to relate the story of his escape at

least a dozen times over, as I was told by an officious old man, who

chose to translate it at least as often for my edification, and to whom I

was in policy obliged to seem to pay a decent degree of attention. The

audience being at length satisfied, group after group departed to take

their bed upon the heath, or in the neighbouring huts, some cursing the

Duke and Garschattachin, some lamenting the probable danger of Ewan of

Brigglands, incurred by his friendship to MacGregor, but all agreeing

that the escape of Rob Roy himself lost nothing in comparison with the

exploit of any one of their chiefs since the days of Dougal Ciar, the

founder of his line.

The friendly outlaw, now taking me by the arm, conducted me into the

interior of the hut. My eyes roved round its smoky recesses in quest of

Diana and her companion; but they were nowhere to be seen, and I felt as

if to make inquiries might betray some secret motives, which were best

concealed. The only known countenance upon which my eyes rested was that

of the Bailie, who, seated on a stool by the fireside, received with a

sort of reserved dignity, the welcomes of Rob Roy, the apologies which he

made for his indifferent accommodation, and his inquiries after his

health.

"I am pretty weel, kinsman," said the Bailie--"indifferent weel, I thank

ye; and for accommodations, ane canna expect to carry about the Saut

Market at his tail, as a snail does his caup;--and I am blythe that ye

hae gotten out o' the hands o' your unfreends."

"Weel, weel, then," answered Roy, "what is't ails ye, man--a's weel that

ends weel!--the warld will last our day--Come, take a cup o' brandy--your

father the deacon could take ane at an orra time."

"It might be he might do sae, Robin, after fatigue--whilk has been my lot

mair ways than ane this day. But," he continued, slowly filling up a

little wooden stoup which might hold about three glasses, "he was a

moderate man of his bicker, as I am mysell--Here's wussing health to ye,

Robin" (a sip), "and your weelfare here and hereafter" (another taste),

"and also to my cousin Helen--and to your twa hopefu' lads, of whom mair

anon."

So saying, he drank up the contents of the cup with great gravity and

deliberation, while MacGregor winked aside to me, as if in ridicule of

the air of wisdom and superior authority which the Bailie assumed towards

him in their intercourse, and which he exercised when Rob was at the head

of his armed clan, in full as great, or a greater degree, than when he

was at the Bailie's mercy in the Tolbooth of Glasgow. It seemed to me,

that MacGregor wished me, as a stranger, to understand, that if he

submitted to the tone which his kinsman assumed, it was partly out of

deference to the rights of hospitality, but still more for the jest's

sake.

As the Bailie set down his cup he recognised me, and giving me a cordial

welcome on my return, he waived farther communication with me for the

present.--"I will speak to your matters anon; I maun begin, as in reason,

wi' those of my kinsman.--I presume, Robin, there's naebody here will

carry aught o' what I am gaun to say, to the town-council or elsewhere,

to my prejudice or to yours?"

"Make yourself easy on that head, cousin Nicol," answered MacGregor; "the

tae half o' the gillies winna ken what ye say, and the tother winna

care--besides that, I wad stow the tongue out o' the head o' any o' them

that suld presume to say ower again ony speech held wi' me in their

presence."

"Aweel, cousin, sic being the case, and Mr. Osbaldistone here being a

prudent youth, and a safe friend--I'se plainly tell ye, ye are breeding

up your family to gang an ill gate." Then, clearing his voice with a

preliminary hem, he addressed his kinsman, checking, as Malvolio proposed

to do when seated in his state, his familiar smile with an austere regard

of control.--"Ye ken yourself ye haud light by the law--and for my cousin

Helen, forbye that her reception o' me this blessed day--whilk I excuse

on account of perturbation of mind, was muckle on the north side o'

_friendly,_ I say (outputting this personal reason of complaint) I hae

that to say o' your wife"--

"Say _nothing_ of her, kinsman," said Rob, in a grave and stern tone,

"but what is befitting a friend to say, and her husband to hear. Of me

you are welcome to say your full pleasure."

"Aweel, aweel," said the Bailie, somewhat disconcerted, "we'se let that

be a pass-over--I dinna approve of making mischief in families. But here

are your twa sons, Hamish and Robin, whilk signifies, as I'm gien to

understand, James and Robert--I trust ye will call them sae in

future--there comes nae gude o' Hamishes, and Eachines, and Angusses,

except that they're the names ane aye chances to see in the indictments

at the Western Circuits for cow-lifting, at the instance of his

majesty's advocate for his majesty's interest. Aweel, but the twa lads,

as I was saying, they haena sae muckle as the ordinar grunds, man, of

liberal education--they dinna ken the very multiplication table itself,

whilk is the root of a' usefu' knowledge, and they did naething but

laugh and fleer at me when I tauld them my mind on their ignorance--It's

my belief they can neither read, write, nor cipher, if sic a thing could

be believed o' ane's ain connections in a Christian land."

"If they could, kinsman," said MacGregor, with great indifference, "their

learning must have come o' free will, for whar the deil was I to get them

a teacher?--wad ye hae had me put on the gate o' your Divinity Hall at

Glasgow College, 'Wanted, a tutor for Rob Roy's bairns?'"

"Na, kinsman," replied Mr. Jarvie, "but ye might hae sent the lads whar

they could hae learned the fear o' God, and the usages of civilised

creatures. They are as ignorant as the kyloes ye used to drive to market,

or the very English churls that ye sauld them to, and can do naething

whatever to purpose."

"Umph!" answered Rob; "Hamish can bring doun a black-cock when he's on

the wing wi' a single bullet, and Rob can drive a dirk through a twa-inch

board."

"Sae muckle the waur for them, cousin!--sae muckle the waur for them

baith!" answered the Glasgow merchant in a tone of great decision; "an

they ken naething better than that, they had better no ken that neither.

Tell me yourself, Rob, what has a' this cutting, and stabbing, and

shooting, and driving of dirks, whether through human flesh or fir deals,

dune for yourself?--and werena ye a happier man at the tail o' your

nowte-bestial, when ye were in an honest calling, than ever ye hae been

since, at the head o' your Hieland kernes and gally-glasses?"

I observed that MacGregor, while his well-meaning kinsman spoke to him in

this manner, turned and writhed his body like a man who indeed suffers

pain, but is determined no groan shall escape his lips; and I longed for

an opportunity to interrupt the well-meant, but, as it was obvious to me,

quite mistaken strain, in which Jarvie addressed this extraordinary

person. The dialogue, however, came to an end without my interference.

"And sae," said the Bailie, "I hae been thinking, Rob, that as it may be

ye are ower deep in the black book to win a pardon, and ower auld to mend

yourself, that it wad be a pity to bring up twa hopefu' lads to sic a

godless trade as your ain, and I wad blythely tak them for prentices at

the loom, as I began mysell, and my father the deacon afore me, though,

praise to the Giver, I only trade now as wholesale dealer--And--and"--

He saw a storm gathering on Rob's brow, which probably induced him to

throw in, as a sweetener of an obnoxious proposition, what he had

reserved to crown his own generosity, had it been embraced as an

acceptable one;--"and Robin, lad, ye needna look sae glum, for I'll pay

the prentice-fee, and never plague ye for the thousand merks neither."

"_Ceade millia diaoul,_ hundred thousand devils!" exclaimed Rob,

rising and striding through the hut, "My sons weavers!--_Millia

molligheart!_--but I wad see every loom in Glasgow, beam, traddles,

and shuttles, burnt in hell-fire sooner!"

With some difficulty I made the Bailie, who was preparing a reply,

comprehend the risk and impropriety of pressing our host on this topic,

and in a minute he recovered, or reassumed, his serenity of temper.

"But ye mean weel--ye mean weel," said he; "so gie me your hand, Nicol,

and if ever I put my sons apprentice, I will gie you the refusal o' them.

And, as you say, there's the thousand merks to be settled between us.--

Here, Eachin MacAnaleister, bring me my sporran."

The person he addressed, a tall, strong mountaineer, who seemed to act as

MacGregor's lieutenant, brought from some place of safety a large

leathern pouch, such as Highlanders of rank wear before them when in full

dress, made of the skin of the sea-otter, richly garnished with silver

ornaments and studs.

"I advise no man to attempt opening this sporran till he has my secret,"

said Rob Roy; and then twisting one button in one direction, and another

in another, pulling one stud upward, and pressing another downward, the

mouth of the purse, which was bound with massive silver plate, opened and

gave admittance to his hand. He made me remark, as if to break short the

subject on which Bailie Jarvie had spoken, that a small steel pistol was

concealed within the purse, the trigger of which was connected with the

mounting, and made part of the machinery, so that the weapon would

certainly be discharged, and in all probability its contents lodged in

the person of any one, who, being unacquainted with the secret, should

tamper with the lock which secured his treasure. "This," said he touching

the pistol--"this is the keeper of my privy purse."

The simplicity of the contrivance to secure a furred pouch, which could

have been ripped open without any attempt on the spring, reminded me of

the verses in the Odyssey, where Ulysses, in a yet ruder age, is content

to secure his property by casting a curious and involved complication of

cordage around the sea-chest in which it was deposited.

The Bailie put on his spectacles to examine the mechanism, and when he

had done, returned it with a smile and a sigh, observing--"Ah! Rob, had

ither folk's purses been as weel guarded, I doubt if your sporran wad hae

been as weel filled as it kythes to be by the weight."

"Never mind, kinsman," said Rob, laughing; "it will aye open for a

friend's necessity, or to pay a just due--and here," he added, pulling

out a rouleau of gold, "here is your ten hundred merks--count them, and

see that you are full and justly paid."

Mr. Jarvie took the money in silence, and weighing it in his hand for an

instant, laid it on the table, and replied, "Rob, I canna tak it--I downa

intromit with it--there can nae gude come o't--I hae seen ower weel the

day what sort of a gate your gowd is made in--ill-got gear ne'er

prospered; and, to be plain wi' you, I winna meddle wi't--it looks as

there might be bluid on't."

"Troutsho!" said the outlaw, affecting an indifference which perhaps he

did not altogether feel; "it's gude French gowd, and ne'er was in

Scotchman's pouch before mine. Look at them, man--they are a'

louis-d'ors, bright and bonnie as the day they were coined."

"The waur, the waur--just sae muckle the waur, Robin," replied the

Bailie, averting his eyes from the money, though, like Caesar on the

Lupercal, his fingers seemed to itch for it--"Rebellion is waur than

witchcraft, or robbery either; there's gospel warrant for't."

"Never mind the warrant, kinsman," said the freebooter; "you come by the

gowd honestly, and in payment of a just debt--it came from the one king,

you may gie it to the other, if ye like; and it will just serve for a

weakening of the enemy, and in the point where puir King James is weakest

too, for, God knows, he has hands and hearts eneugh, but I doubt he wants

the siller."

"He'll no get mony Hielanders then, Robin," said Mr. Jarvie, as, again

replacing his spectacles on his nose, he undid the rouleau, and began to

count its contents.

"Nor Lowlanders neither," said MacGregor, arching his eyebrow, and, as he

looked at me, directing a glance towards Mr. Jarvie, who, all unconscious

of the ridicule, weighed each piece with habitual scrupulosity; and

having told twice over the sum, which amounted to the discharge of his

debt, principal and interest, he returned three pieces to buy his

kinswoman a gown, as he expressed himself, and a brace more for the twa

bairns, as he called them, requesting they might buy anything they liked

with them except gunpowder. The Highlander stared at his kinsman's

unexpected generosity, but courteously accepted his gift, which he

deposited for the time in his well-secured pouch.

The Bailie next produced the original bond for the debt, on the back of

which he had written a formal discharge, which, having subscribed

himself, he requested me to sign as a witness. I did so, and Bailie

Jarvie was looking anxiously around for another, the Scottish law

requiring the subscription of two witnesses to validate either a bond or

acquittance. "You will hardly find a man that can write save ourselves

within these three miles," said Rob, "but I'll settle the matter as

easily;" and, taking the paper from before his kinsman, he threw it in

the fire. Bailie Jarvie stared in his turn, but his kinsman continued,

"That's a Hieland settlement of accounts. The time might come, cousin,

were I to keep a' these charges and discharges, that friends might be

brought into trouble for having dealt with me."

The Bailie attempted no reply to this argument, and our supper now

appeared in a style of abundance, and even delicacy, which, for the

place, might be considered as extraordinary. The greater part of the

provisions were cold, intimating they had been prepared at some distance;

and there were some bottles of good French wine to relish pasties of

various sorts of game, as well as other dishes. I remarked that

MacGregor, while doing the honours of the table with great and anxious

hospitality, prayed us to excuse the circumstance that some particular

dish or pasty had been infringed on before it was presented to us. "You

must know," said he to Mr. Jarvie, but without looking towards me, "you

are not the only guests this night in the MacGregor's country, whilk,

doubtless, ye will believe, since my wife and the twa lads would

otherwise have been maist ready to attend you, as weel beseems them."

Bailie Jarvie looked as if he felt glad at any circumstance which

occasioned their absence; and I should have been entirely of his opinion,

had it not been that the outlaw's apology seemed to imply they were in

attendance on Diana and her companion, whom even in my thoughts I could

not bear to designate as her husband.

While the unpleasant ideas arising from this suggestion counteracted the

good effects of appetite, welcome, and good cheer, I remarked that Rob

Roy's attention had extended itself to providing us better bedding than

we had enjoyed the night before. Two of the least fragile of the

bedsteads, which stood by the wall of the hut, had been stuffed with

heath, then in full flower, so artificially arranged, that, the flowers

being uppermost, afforded a mattress at once elastic and fragrant.

Cloaks, and such bedding as could be collected, stretched over this

vegetable couch, made it both soft and warm. The Bailie seemed exhausted

by fatigue. I resolved to adjourn my communication to him until next

morning; and therefore suffered him to betake himself to bed so soon as

he had finished a plentiful supper. Though tired and harassed, I did not

myself feel the same disposition to sleep, but rather a restless and

feverish anxiety, which led to some farther discourse betwixt me and

MacGregor.

CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.

A hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate;

I've seen the last look of her heavenly eyes,--

I've heard the last sound of her blessed voice,--

I've seen her fair form from my sight depart;

My doom is closed.

Count Basil.

"I ken not what to make of you, Mr. Osbaldistone," said MacGregor, as he

pushed the flask towards me. "You eat not, you show no wish for rest; and

yet you drink not, though that flask of Bourdeaux might have come out of

Sir Hildebrand's ain cellar. Had you been always as abstinent, you would

have escaped the deadly hatred of your cousin Rashleigh."

"Had I been always prudent," said I, blushing at the scene he recalled to

my recollection, "I should have escaped a worse evil--the reproach of my

own conscience."

MacGregor cast a keen and somewhat fierce glance on me, as if to read

whether the reproof, which he evidently felt, had been intentionally

conveyed. He saw that I was thinking of myself, not of him, and turned

his face towards the fire with a deep sigh. I followed his example, and

each remained for a few minutes wrapt in his own painful reverie. All in

the hut were now asleep, or at least silent, excepting ourselves.

MacGregor first broke silence, in the tone of one who takes up his

determination to enter on a painful subject. "My cousin Nicol Jarvie

Livros Grátis
( http://www.livrosgratis.com.br )
 
Milhares de Livros para Download:
 
Baixar livros de Administração
Baixar livros de Agronomia
Baixar livros de Arquitetura
Baixar livros de Artes
Baixar livros de Astronomia
Baixar livros de Biologia Geral
Baixar livros de Ciência da Computação
Baixar livros de Ciência da Informação
Baixar livros de Ciência Política
Baixar livros de Ciências da Saúde
Baixar livros de Comunicação
Baixar livros do Conselho Nacional de Educação - CNE
Baixar livros de Defesa civil
Baixar livros de Direito
Baixar livros de Direitos humanos
Baixar livros de Economia
Baixar livros de Economia Doméstica
Baixar livros de Educação
Baixar livros de Educação - Trânsito
Baixar livros de Educação Física
Baixar livros de Engenharia Aeroespacial
Baixar livros de Farmácia
Baixar livros de Filosofia
Baixar livros de Física
Baixar livros de Geociências
Baixar livros de Geografia
Baixar livros de História
Baixar livros de Línguas

Baixar livros de Literatura
Baixar livros de Literatura de Cordel
Baixar livros de Literatura Infantil
Baixar livros de Matemática
Baixar livros de Medicina
Baixar livros de Medicina Veterinária
Baixar livros de Meio Ambiente
Baixar livros de Meteorologia
Baixar Monografias e TCC
Baixar livros Multidisciplinar
Baixar livros de Música
Baixar livros de Psicologia
Baixar livros de Química
Baixar livros de Saúde Coletiva
Baixar livros de Serviço Social
Baixar livros de Sociologia
Baixar livros de Teologia
Baixar livros de Trabalho
Baixar livros de Turismo
 
 