by John Galt
CHAPTER IX
My grandfather and his companion hastened on in their journey, butinstead of going to Stirling they crossed the river at Alloa, and sopassed by the water-side way to Edinburgh, where, on entering theWest-port, they separated. The bailie, who was a fearful man and inconstant dread and terror of being burned as a heretic for having brokein upon the dalliance of his incontinent wife and the carnal-mindedprimate of St Andrews, went to a cousin of his own, a dealer in sergeand temming in the Lawnmarket, with whom he concealed himself for someweeks, but my grandfather proceeded straight towards the lodging of theEarl of Glencairn to recount to his lordship the whole passages of whathe had been concerned in, from the night that he departed from hispresence.
It was by this time the mirkest of the gloaming, for they had purposelytarried on their journey that they might enter Edinburgh at dusk. Theshops of the traders were shut, for in those days there was such aresort of sorners and lawless men among the trains of the nobles andgentry that it was not safe for honest merchants to keep their shopsopen after nightfall. Nevertheless the streets were not darkened, forthere were then many begging-boxes, with images of the saints, andcruisies burning afore them, in divers parts of the High Street andcorners of the wynds, insomuch that it was easy, as I have heard mygrandfather tell, to see and know anyone passing in the light thereof.And, indeed, what befel himself was proof of it, for as he was comingthrough St Giles' Kirkyard, which is now the Parliament Close, andthrough which at that time there was a style and path for passengers, ayoung man, whom he had observed following him, came close up just as hereached a begging image of the Virgin Mary with its lamp that stood on apillar at the south-east corner of the cathedral, and touching him onthe left shoulder at that spot made him look round in such a manner thatthe light of the Virgin's lamp fell full on his face.
"Dinna be frighted," said the stranger, "I ken you, and I'm in LordGlencairn's service; but follow me and say nothing."
My grandfather was not a little startled by this salutation; he,however, made no observe, but replied, "Go on, then."
So the stranger went forward, and, after various turnings and windings,led him down into the Cowgate and up a close on the south side thereof,and then to a dark timber stair that was so frail and creaking andnarrow that his guide bade him haul himself up with the help of a ropethat hung down dangling for that purpose.
When they had raised themselves to the stairhead, the stranger opened adoor and they went together into a small and lonesome chamber, in thechimla-nook of which an old iron cruisie was burning with a winking andwizard light.
"I hae brought you here," said his conductor, "for secrecy, for my Lorddisna want that ye should be seen about his lodging. I'm ane of threethat hae been lang seeking you, and, as a token that ye're no deceived,I was bade to tell you that before parting from my lord he gi'ed you twopieces of gold out of his coffer in the chamber where he supped."
My grandfather thought this very like a proof that he had been soinformed by the Earl himself, but happening to remark that he sat withhis back to the light and kept his face hidden in the shadow of thedarkness, Providence put it into his head to jealouse that he mightnevertheless be a spy, one perhaps that had been trusted in like manneras he had himself been trusted, and who had afterwards sold himself tothe perdition of the adversaries' cause; he was, accordingly, on hisguard, but replied with seeming frankness that it was very true he hadreceived two pieces of gold from the Earl at his departure.
"Then," said the young man, "by that token ye may know that I am in theprivate service of the Earl, who, for reasons best known to himsel',hath willed that you should tell me, that I may report the same secretlyto him, what espionage you have made."
My grandfather was perplexed by this speech, but distrust having creptinto his thoughts, instead of replying with a full recital of all hisadventures, he briefly said that he had indeed effected nothing, for hissoul was sickened by the woful martyrdom of the godly Master Mill to sogreat a disease that he could not endure to abide in St Andrews, andtherefore he had come back.
"But you have been long on the way--how is that?--it is now many dayssince the burning," replied the stranger.
"You say truly," was my grandfather's answer, "for I came round byPerth, but I tarried at no place longer than was needful to repair andrefresh nature."
"Perth was a wide bout gait to take frae St Andrews to come toEdinburgh. I marvel how ye went so far astray," said the young man,curiously.
"In sooth it was, but being sorely demented with the tragical end of thegodly old man," replied my grandfather, "and seeing that I could do theEarl no manner of service, I wist not well what course to take, so aftermeickle tribulation of thought and great uncertainty of purpose I e'enresolved to come hither."
Little more passed; the young man rose and said to my grandfather hefeared the Earl would be so little content with him that he had betternot go near him but seek some other master. And when they had descendedthe stair and were come into the street he advised him to go to thehouse of a certain Widow Rippet, that let dry lodgings in theGrass-market, and roost there for that night. The which my grandfatherin a manner signified he would do, and so they parted.
The stranger at first walked soberly away, but he had not gone manypaces when he suddenly turned into a close leading up to theHigh-street, and my grandfather heard the pattering of his feet runningas swiftly as possible, which confirmed to him what he suspected; andso, instead of going towards the Widow Rippet's house he turned back andwent straight on to St Mary's Wynd, where the Earl's lodging was, andknocking at the yett was speedily admitted and conducted instanter to myLord's presence, whom he found alone reading many papers which lay on atable before him.
"Gilhaize," said the Earl, "how is this? why have you come back? andwherefore is it that I have heard no tidings from you?"
Whereupon my grandfather recounted to him all the circumstantials whichI have rehearsed, from the hour of his departure from Edinburgh up tillthe very time when he then stood in his master's presence. The Earl madeno inroad on his narrative while he was telling it, but his countenanceoften changed and he was much moved at different passages--sometimeswith sorrow and sometimes with anger; and he laughed vehemently at themishap which had befallen the grand adversary of the Congregation andhis concubine. The adventure, however, with the unknown varlet in thestreet appeared to make his Lordship very thoughtful, and no less thanthrice did he question my grandfather if he had indeed given but thosebarren answers which I have already recited; to all which he receivedthe most solemn asseverations that no more was said. His Lordship thensat some time cogitating with his hands resting on his thighs, his browsbent, and his lips pursed as with sharp thought. At last he said,--
"Gilhaize, you have done better in this than I ought to have expected ofone so young and unpractised. The favour you won with Sir David Hamiltonwas no more than I thought your looks and manners would beget. But youare not only well-favoured but well-fortuned; and had you not foundyourself worthily bound to your duty I doubt not you might haveprospered in the Archbishop's household. The affair with MadamKilspinnie was a thing I reckoned not of, yet therein you have provedyourself not only a very Joseph, but so ripe in wit beyond your yearsthat your merits deserve more commendation than I can afford to give,for I have not sufficient to bestow on the singular prudence anddiscernment wherewith you have parried the treacherous thrusts of thatJudas Iscariot, Winterton, for so I doubt not is the traitor who waylaidyou. He was once in my service and is now in the Queen Regent's. Insending off my men on errands similar to yours, I was wont to give themtwo pieces of gold, and this the false loon has gathered to be a customfrom others as well as by his own knowledge, and he has made it the keyto open the breasts of my servants. To know this, however, is a greatdiscovery. But, Gilhaize, not to waste words, you have your master'sconfidence. Go, therefore, I pray you, with all speed to the WidowRippet's and do as Winterton bade you and as chance may require. In themorning come again hither, for
I have this night many weighty affairs,and you have shown yourself possessed of a discerning spirit, that may,in these times of peril and perjury, help the great cause of all goodScotchmen."
In saying these most acceptable words, he clapped my grandfather on theshoulder, and encouraged him to be as true-hearted as he wassharp-witted, and he could not fail to earn both treasure and trusts. Somy grand-father left him, and went to the Widow Rippet's in theGrass-market; and around her kitchen fire he found some four or fivediscarded knaves that were bargaining with her for beds, or for leave tosleep by the hearth; and he had not been long seated among them when hisheart was grieved with pain to see Winterton come in, and behind him thetwo simple lads of Lithgow that had left their homes with him, whom, itappeared, the varlet had seduced from the Earl of Glencairn's serviceand inveigled into the Earl of Seaton's, a rampant papist, by the samewiles wherewith he thought he had likewise made a conquest of mygrandfather, whom they had all come together to see; for the two Lithgowlads, like reynard the fox when he had lost his tail, were eager that hetoo should make himself like them. He feigned, however, great weariness,and indeed his heart was heavy to see such skill of wickedness in soyoung a man as he saw in Winterton. So, after partaking with them ofsome spiced ale which Winterton brought from the Salutation tavern,opposite the gallow's-stone, he declared himself overcome with sleep,and perforce thereof obligated to go to bed. But when they were gone,and he had retired to his sorry couch, no sleep came to his eyelids, butonly hot and salt tears; for he thought that he had been in a measureconcerned in bringing away the two thoughtless lads from their homes,and he saw that they were not tempered to resist the temptations of theworld, but would soon fall away from their religious integrity, andbecome lewd and godless roisters, like the wuddy worthies that paidhalf-price for leave to sleep on the widow's hearth.
