Rob Roy

by Walter Dill Scott

  ``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 it to 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

  * [The Gorbals or ``suburbs'' are situate on the south side of the River.]

  wild hills, Robin, and your kilted red-shanks---it disna become my place, man.''

  ``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,

  * [Executed for treason.]

  and you set yourself up to say ye wad derogate frae your place to visit me! 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 lnch-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 m
aun 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 TWENTY-FOURTH.

  ``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 h
er 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.