by Walter Scott
CHAPTER NINETEENTH.
Sweet sister, let me live! What sin you do to save a brother's life, Nature dispenses with the deed so far, That it becomes a virtue. Measure for Measure.
Jeanie Deans was admitted into the jail by Ratcliffe. This fellow, asvoid of shame as of honesty, as he opened the now trebly secured door,asked her, with a leer which made her shudder, "whether she rememberedhim?"
A half-pronounced and timid "No," was her answer.
"What! not remember moonlight, and Muschat's Cairn, and Rob and Rat?"said he, with the same sneer;--"Your memory needs redding up, my jo."
If Jeanie's distresses had admitted of aggravation, it must have been tofind her sister under the charge of such a profligate as this man. He wasnot, indeed, without something of good to balance so much that was evilin his character and habits. In his misdemeanours he had never beenbloodthirsty or cruel; and in his present occupation, he had shownhimself, in a certain degree, accessible to touches of humanity. Butthese good qualities were unknown to Jeanie, who, remembering the sceneat Muschat's Cairn, could scarce find voice to acquaint him, that she hadan order from Bailie Middleburgh, permitting her to see her sister.
"I ken that fa' weel, my bonny doo; mair by token, I have a specialcharge to stay in the ward with you a' the time ye are thegither."
"Must that be sae?" asked Jeanie, with an imploring voice.
"Hout, ay, hinny," replied the turnkey; "and what the waur will you andyour tittie be of Jim Ratcliffe hearing what ye hae to say to ilkother?--Deil a word ye'll say that will gar him ken your kittle sexbetter than he kens them already; and another thing is, that if ye dinnaspeak o' breaking the Tolbooth, deil a word will I tell ower, either todo ye good or ill."
Thus saying, Ratcliffe marshalled her the way to the apartment whereEffie was confined.
Shame, fear, and grief, had contended for mastery in the poor prisoner'sbosom during the whole morning, while she had looked forward to thismeeting; but when the door opened, all gave way to a confused and strangefeeling that had a tinge of joy in it, as, throwing herself on hersister's neck, she ejaculated, "My dear Jeanie!--my dear Jeanie! it'slang since I hae seen ye." Jeanie returned the embrace with anearnestness that partook almost of rapture, but it was only a flittingemotion, like a sunbeam unexpectedly penetrating betwixt the clouds of atempest, and obscured almost as soon as visible. The sisters walkedtogether to the side of the pallet bed, and sate down side by side, tookhold of each other's hands, and looked each other in the face, butwithout speaking a word. In this posture they remained for a minute,while the gleam of joy gradually faded from their features, and gave wayto the most intense expression, first of melancholy, and then of agony,till, throwing themselves again into each other's arms, they, to use thelanguage of Scripture, lifted up their voices, and wept bitterly.
Even the hardhearted turnkey, who had spent his life in scenes calculatedto stifle both conscience and feeling, could not witness this scenewithout a touch of human sympathy. It was shown in a trifling action, butwhich had more delicacy in it than seemed to belong to Ratcliffe'scharacter and station. The unglazed window of the miserable chamber wasopen, and the beams of a bright sun fell right upon the bed where thesufferers were seated. With a gentleness that had something of reverencein it, Ratcliffe partly closed the shutter, and seemed thus to throw aveil over a scene so sorrowful.
"Ye are ill, Effie," were the first words Jeanie could utter; "ye arevery ill."
"O, what wad I gie to be ten times waur, Jeanie!" was the reply--"whatwad I gie to be cauld dead afore the ten o'clock bell the morn! And ourfather--but I am his bairn nae langer now--O, I hae nae friend left inthe warld!--O, that I were lying dead at my mother's side, in Newbattlekirkyard!"
"Hout, lassie," said Ratcliffe, willing to show the interest which heabsolutely felt, "dinna be sae dooms doon-hearted as a' that; there'smony a tod hunted that's no killed. Advocate Langtale has brought folkthrough waur snappers than a' this, and there's no a cleverer agent thanNichil Novit e'er drew a bill of suspension. Hanged or unhanged, they areweel aff has sic an agent and counsel; ane's sure o' fair play. Ye are abonny lass, too, an ye wad busk up your cockernony a bit; and a bonnylass will find favour wi' judge and jury, when they would strap up agrewsome carle like me for the fifteenth part of a flea's hide andtallow, d--n them."
To this homely strain of consolation the mourners returned no answer;indeed, they were so much lost in their own sorrows as to have becomeinsensible of Ratcliffe's presence. "O Effie," said her elder sister,"how could you conceal your situation from me? O woman, had I deservedthis at your hand?--had ye spoke but ae word--sorry we might hae been,and shamed we might hae been, but this awfu' dispensation had never comeower us."
"And what gude wad that hae dune?" answered the prisoner. "Na, na,Jeanie, a' was ower when ance I forgot what I promised when I fauldeddown the leaf of my Bible. See," she said, producing the sacred volume,"the book opens aye at the place o' itsell. O see, Jeanie, what a fearfu'Scripture!"
Jeanie took her sister's Bible, and found that the fatal mark was made atthis impressive text in the book of Job: "He hath stripped me of myglory, and taken the crown from my head. He hath destroyed me on everyside, and I am gone. And mine hope hath he removed like a tree."
"Isna that ower true a doctrine?" said the prisoner "Isna my crown, myhonour, removed? And what am I but a poor, wasted, wan-thriven tree, dugup by the roots, and flung out to waste in the highway, that man andbeast may tread it under foot? I thought o' the bonny bit them that ourfather rooted out o' the yard last May, when it had a' the flush o'blossoms on it; and then it lay in the court till the beasts had trodthem a' to pieces wi' their feet. I little thought, when I was wae forthe bit silly green bush and its flowers, that I was to gang the samegate mysell."
"O, if ye had spoken ae word," again sobbed Jeanie,--"if I were free toswear that ye had said but ae word of how it stude wi' ye, they couldnahae touched your life this day."
"Could they na?" said Effie, with something like awakened interest--forlife is dear even to those who feel it is a burden--"Wha tauld ye that,Jeanie?"
"It was ane that kend what he was saying weel eneugh," replied Jeanie,who had a natural reluctance at mentioning even the name of her sister'sseducer.
"Wha was it?--I conjure you to tell me," said Effie, seating herselfupright.--"Wha could tak interest in sic a cast-by as I am now?--Wasit--was it _him?_"
"Hout," said Ratcliffe, "what signifies keeping the poor lassie in aswither? I'se uphaud it's been Robertson that learned ye that doctrinewhen ye saw him at Muschat's Cairn."
"Was it him?" said Effie, catching eagerly at his words--"was it him,Jeanie, indeed?--O, I see it was him--poor lad, and I was thinking hisheart was as hard as the nether millstane--and him in sic danger on hisain part--poor George!"
Somewhat indignant at this burst of tender feeling towards the author ofher misery, Jeanie could not help exclaiming--"O Effie, how can ye speakthat gate of sic a man as that?"
"We maun forgie our enemies, ye ken," said poor Effie, with a timid lookand a subdued voice; for her conscience told her what a differentcharacter the feelings with which she regarded her seducer bore, comparedwith the Christian charity under which she attempted to veil it.
"And ye hae suffered a' this for him, and ye can think of loving himstill?" said her sister, in a voice betwixt pity and blame.
"Love him!" answered Effie--"If I hadna loved as woman seldom loves, Ihadna been within these wa's this day; and trow ye, that love sic as mineis lightly forgotten?--Na, na--ye may hew down the tree, but ye cannachange its bend--And, O Jeanie, if ye wad do good to me at this moment,tell me every word that he said, and whether he was sorry for poor Effieor no!"
"What needs I tell ye onything about it?" said Jeanie. "Ye may be sure hehad ower muckle to do to save himsell, to speak lang or muckle about onybody beside."
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d Effie--304]
"That's no true, Jeanie, though a saunt had said it," replied Effie, witha sparkle of her former lively and irritable temper. "But ye dinna ken,though I do, how far he pat his life in venture to save mine." Andlooking at Ratcliffe, she checked herself and was silent.
"I fancy," said Ratcliffe, with one of his familiar sneers, "the lassiethinks that naebody has een but hersell--Didna I see when Gentle Geordiewas seeking to get other folk out of the Tolbooth forby JockPorteous?--but ye are of my mind, hinny--better sit and rue, than flitand rue--ye needna look in my face sae amazed. I ken mair things thanthat, maybe."
"O my God! my God!" said Effie, springing up and throwing herself down onher knees before him--"D'ye ken where they hae putten my bairn?--O mybairn! my bairn! the poor sackless innocent new-born wee ane--bone of mybone, and flesh of my flesh!--O man, if ye wad e'er deserve a portion inHeaven, or a brokenhearted creature's blessing upon earth, tell me wherethey hae put my bairn--the sign of my shame, and the partner of mysuffering! tell me wha has taen't away, or what they hae dune wi't?"
"Hout tout," said the turnkey, endeavouring to extricate himself from thefirm grasp with which she held him, "that's taking me at my word wi' awitness--Bairn, quo' she? How the deil suld I ken onything of your bairn,huzzy? Ye maun ask that of auld Meg Murdockson, if ye dinna ken owermuckle about it yoursell."
As his answer destroyed the wild and vague hope which had suddenlygleamed upon her, the unhappy prisoner let go her hold of his coat, andfell with her face on the pavement of the apartment in a strongconvulsion fit.
Jeanie Deans possessed, with her excellently clear understanding, theconcomitant advantage of promptitude of spirit, even in the extremity ofdistress.
She did not suffer herself to be overcome by her own feelings ofexquisite sorrow, but instantly applied herself to her sister's relief,with the readiest remedies which circumstances afforded; and which, to doRatcliffe justice, he showed himself anxious to suggest, and alert inprocuring. He had even the delicacy to withdraw to the farthest corner ofthe room, so as to render his official attendance upon them as littleintrusive as possible, when Effie was composed enough again to resume herconference with her sister.
The prisoner once more, in the most earnest and broken tones, conjuredJeanie to tell her the particulars of the conference with Robertson, andJeanie felt it was impossible to refuse her this gratification.
"Do ye mind," she said, "Effie, when ye were in the fever before we leftWoodend, and how angry your mother, that's now in a better place, was wi'me for gieing ye milk and water to drink, because ye grat for it? Ye werea bairn then, and ye are a woman now, and should ken better than ask whatcanna but hurt you--But come weal or woe, I canna refuse ye onything thatye ask me wi' the tear in your ee."
Again Effie threw herself into her arms, and kissed her cheek andforehead, murmuring, "O, if ye kend how lang it is since I heard his namementioned?--if ye but kend how muckle good it does me but to ken onythingo' him, that's like goodness or kindness, ye wadna wonder that I wish tohear o' him!"
Jeanie sighed, and commenced her narrative of all that had passed betwixtRobertson and her, making it as brief as possible. Effie listened inbreathless anxiety, holding her sister's hand in hers, and keeping hereye fixed upon her face, as if devouring every word she uttered. Theinterjections of "Poor fellow,"--"Poor George," which escaped inwhispers, and betwixt sighs, were the only sounds with which sheinterrupted the story. When it was finished she made a long pause.
"And this was his advice?" were the first words she uttered.
"Just sic as I hae tell'd ye," replied her sister.
"And he wanted you to say something to yon folks, that wad save my younglife?"
"He wanted," answered Jeanie, "that I suld be man-sworn."
"And you tauld him," said Effie, "that ye wadna hear o' coming between meand the death that I am to die, and me no aughten year auld yet?"
"I told him," replied Jeanie, who now trembled at the turn which hersister's reflection seemed about to take, "that I daured na swear to anuntruth."
"And what d'ye ca' an untruth?" said Effie, again showing a touch of herformer spirit--"Ye are muckle to blame, lass, if ye think a mother would,or could, murder her ain bairn--Murder!--I wad hae laid down my life justto see a blink o' its ee!"
"I do believe," said Jeanie, "that ye are as innocent of sic a purpose asthe new-born babe itsell."
"I am glad ye do me that justice," said Effie, haughtily; "ifs whiles thefaut of very good folk like you, Jeanie, that, they think a' the rest ofthe warld are as bad as the warst temptations can make them."
"I didna deserve this frae ye, Effie," said her sister, sobbing, andfeeling at once the injustice of the reproach, and compassion for thestate of mind which dictated it.
"Maybe no, sister," said Effie. "But ye are angry because I loveRobertson--How can I help loving him, that loves me better than body andsoul baith?--Here he put his life in a niffer, to break the prison to letme out; and sure am I, had it stude wi' him as it stands wi' you"--Hereshe paused and was silent.
"O, if it stude wi' me to save ye wi' risk of my life!" said Jeanie.
"Ay, lass," said her sister, "that's lightly said, but no sae lightlycredited, frae ane that winna ware a word for me; and if it be a wrangword, ye'll hae time eneugh to repent o't."
"But that word is a grievous sin, and it's a deeper offence when it's asin wilfully and presumptuously committed."
"Weel, weel, Jeanie," said Effie, "I mind a' about the sins o'presumption in the questions--we'll speak nae mair about this matter, andye may save your breath to say your carritch and for me, I'll soon haenae breath to waste on onybody."
"I must needs say," interposed Ratcliffe, "that it's d--d hard, whenthree words of your mouth would give the girl the chance to nick MollBlood,* that you make such scrupling about rapping** to them. D--n me, ifthey would take me, if I would not rap to all what d'ye callums--Hyssop'sFables, for her life--I am us'd to't, b--t me, for less matters. Why, Ihave smacked calf-skin*** fifty times in England for a keg of brandy."
* The gallows.** Swearing.*** Kissed the book.
"Never speak mair o't," said the prisoner. "It's just as weel as itis--and gude-day, sister; ye keep Mr. Ratcliffe waiting on--Ye'll comeback and see me, I reckon, before"--here she stopped and became deadlypale.
"And are we to part in this way," said Jeanie, "and you in sic deadlyperil? O Effie, look but up, and say what ye wad hae me to do, and Icould find in my heart amaist to say that I wad do't."
"No, Jeanie," replied her sister after an effort, "I am better mindednow. At my best, I was never half sae gude as ye were, and what for suldyou begin to mak yoursell waur to save me, now that I am no worth saving?God knows, that in my sober mind, I wadna wuss ony living creature to doa wrang thing to save my life. I might have fled frae this Tolbooth onthat awfu' night wi' ane wad hae carried me through the warld, andfriended me, and fended for me. But I said to them, let life gang whengude fame is gane before it. But this lang imprisonment has broken myspirit, and I am whiles sair left to mysell, and then I wad gie theIndian mines of gold and diamonds, just for life and breath--for I think,Jeanie, I have such roving fits as I used to hae in the fever; but,instead of the fiery een and wolves, and Widow Butler's bullseg, that Iused to see spieling upon my bed, I am thinking now about a high, blackgibbet, and me standing up, and such seas of faces all looking up at poorEffie Deans, and asking if it be her that George Robertson used to callthe Lily of St. Leonard's. And then they stretch out their faces, andmake mouths, and girn at me, and whichever way I look, I see a facelaughing like Meg Murdockson, when she tauld me I had seen the last of mywean. God preserve us, Jeanie, that carline has a fearsome face!"
She clapped her hands before her eyes as she uttered this exclamation, asif to secure herself against seeing the fearful object she had alludedto.
Jeanie Deans remained with her sister for two hours, during which sheendeavoured, if possible, to extract something from her that might beservi
ceable in her exculpation. But she had nothing to say beyond whatshe had declared on her first examination, with the purport of which thereader will be made acquainted in proper time and place. "They wadnabelieve her," she said, "and she had naething mair to tell them."
At length, Ratcliffe, though reluctantly, informed the sisters that therewas a necessity that they should part. "Mr. Novit," he said, "was to seethe prisoner, and maybe Mr. Langtale too. Langtale likes to look at abonny lass, whether in prison or out o' prison."
Reluctantly, therefore, and slowly, after many a tear, and many anembrace, Jeanie retired from the apartment, and heard its jarring boltsturned upon the dear being from whom she was separated. Somewhatfamiliarised now even with her rude conductor, she offered him a smallpresent in money, with a request he would do what he could for hersister's accommodation. To her surprise, Ratcliffe declined the fee."I wasna bloody when I was on the pad," he said, "and I winna begreedy--that is, beyond what's right and reasonable--now that I am inthe lock.--Keep the siller; and for civility, your sister sall hae sicas I can bestow; but I hope you'll think better on it, and rap an oathfor her--deil a hair ill there is in it, if ye are rapping again thecrown. I kend a worthy minister, as gude a man, bating the deed theydeposed him for, as ever ye heard claver in a pu'pit, that rapped to ahogshead of pigtail tobacco, just for as muckle as filled hisspleuchan.*
* Tobacco-pouch.
But maybe ye are keeping your ain counsel--weel, weel, there's nae harmin that. As for your sister, I'se see that she gets her meat clean andwarm, and I'll try to gar her lie down and take a sleep after dinner, fordeil a ee she'll close the night. I hae gude experience of these matters.The first night is aye the warst o't. I hae never heard o' ane thatsleepit the night afore trial, but of mony a ane that sleepit as sound asa tap the night before their necks were straughted. And it's naewonder--the warst may be tholed when it's kend--Better a finger affas aye wagging."
